


Trials Together (Book Three): The Death Cure

by msnoname24



Series: Trials Together [4]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 34,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msnoname24/pseuds/msnoname24
Summary: Book Three of my Trials Together series. You must read books one and two to understand this but essentially it's an AU where Groups A and B were never separate.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the smell that began to drive Thomas slightly mad.

 

Not being alone for over three weeks. Not the white walls, ceiling and floor. Not the lack of windows or the fact that they never turned off the lights. None of that. They’d taken his watch; they fed him the exact same meal three times a day—slab of ham, mashed potatoes, raw carrots, slice of bread, water—never spoke to him, never allowed anyone else in the room. No books, no movies, no games

 

Complete isolation. For over three weeks now, though he’d begun to doubt his tracking of time—which was based purely on instinct. He tried to best guess when night had fallen, made sure he only slept what felt like normal hours. The meals helped, though they didn’t seem to come regularly. As if he was meant to feel disoriented.

 

It was quite likely they were watching him somehow, but there was no sign of a camera or microphone. Not that that meant anything.

 

Alone. In a padded room devoid of colour—the only exceptions a small, almost-hidden stainless-steel toilet in the corner and an old wooden desk that Thomas had no use for. Alone in an unbearable silence, with unlimited time to think about the disease rooted inside him: the Flare, that silent, creeping virus that slowly took away everything that made a person human.

 

He thought of the conversation he had had with Teresa, Rachel and Aris the day Ratman had spoken to them in the dorms, before the Scorch. It had been about a dream Thomas had had, a memory. An odd surgery where people in masks had talked about the four of them, how the Flare was rooted deep in their minds.

 

Thomas had been about seven in that memory, now he was sixteen. There was no way the virus wouldn’t have driven them crazy in those nine years if they were infected. Ratman had said they infected them after the Maze, it was only starting to drive him mad.

 

It made no sense. Every day he tried to reach out to his friends with his mind, but he always failed. Teresa had told him she had been taken to a dorm but there hadn’t been time to ask about Rachel and Aris before the connection had shut off.

Were they isolated like him, or something worse? Had it even been Teresa?

 

He had never been so alone before, in the Maze it was Rachel who had been there, in the Scorch mostly Teresa, Aris hovering somewhere nearby.

Thomas had witnessed first hand the bonds between those who entered the trials together, Boxmates, partners, they always stuck together. The four of them were like that somehow, the odd link between their minds, the exceptions to everything.

 

It was the utter separation from them that made Thomas hate WICKED more than anything. Those relationships had been created by WICKED, and the Gladers relied on them, at different levels but they all did. Some were inseparable, others would trust each other with things they would never tell another soul.

Those relationships also seemed to be WICKED’s favourite toy. Thomas thought of the exchanges he had witnessed between Beth and Gally, where she was independent, but he _needed_ her to continue. How they had been torn apart, reunited, used as murder weapons then separated permanently.

Thomas knew if any of them died he would break entirely. He missed them almost as much as he missed being clean.

 

He had nightmares of the final chamber sometimes, where Beth’s knife didn’t miss Rachel, so she bled out on the floor like Chuck. The images of her body stayed for days, hovering over his vision.

Everyone died in his dreams, in ways they could so easily have died in reality.

The lightning that struck Minho tore him apart. The Cranks from the party shot both Brenda and Teresa through the head, sometimes with just one bullet. Harriet dodged one of the bulb monster’s blades, but another ran her through. Newt and Sonya overcome by a group of Cranks past the Gone.

All his dreams were death, but never his, he always stayed alive, doomed to always remember. To scream until he woke up and sometimes after too.

 

 

None of this drove him crazy.

 

But he stank, and for some reason that set his nerves on a sharp wire, cutting into the solid block of his sanity. They didn’t let him shower or bathe, hadn’t provided him with a change of clothes since he’d arrived or anything to clean his body with. A simple rag would’ve helped; he could dip it in the water they gave him to drink and clean his face at least. But he had nothing, only the dirty clothes he’d been wearing when they locked him away. Not even bedding—he slept all curled up, his butt wedged in the corner of the room, arms folded, trying to hug some warmth into himself, often shivering. He thought of all the times he had slept curled together with his three friends, particularly on the Berg leaving the Scorch. When Teresa had kissed him to quiet the turmoil in his mind. He missed her more than anything.

 

He didn’t know why the stench of his own body was the thing that scared him the most. Perhaps that in itself was a sign that he’d lost it. But for some reason his deteriorating hygiene pushed against his mind, causing horrific thoughts. Like he was rotting, decomposing, his insides turning as rancid as his outside felt.

 

That was what worried him, as irrational as it seemed. He had plenty of food and just enough water to quench his thirst; he got plenty of rest, and he exercised as best he could in the small room, often running in place for hours. Logic told him that being filthy had nothing to do with the strength of your heart or the functioning of your lungs. All the same, his mind was beginning to believe that his unceasing stench represented death rushing in, about to swallow him whole.

 

Those dark thoughts, in turn, were starting to make him wonder if Teresa hadn’t been lying after all that last time they’d spoken, when she’d said it was too late for Thomas and insisted that he’d succumbed to the Flare rapidly, had become crazy and violent. That he’d already lost his sanity before coming to this awful place. Even Brenda had warned him that things were about to get bad. Maybe they’d both been right.

 

And underneath all that was the worry for his friends. What had happened to them? Where were they? What was the Flare doing to their minds? After everything they’d been subjected to, was this how it was all going to end?

There was Rachel, how she had broken down from ‘voices’ in her mind. They had been sure that was WICKED then, but it could have been the virus.

 

The rage crept in. The anger at WICKED, how many people had they killed. Chuck, Alby, the terrifying story of Nick and Ximena, the attempt on Rachel’s life. What was even the point of it all? How could it be justified?

 

He’d already tried countless times to get the door open himself. And the desk drawers were empty, nothing there but the smell of mildew and cedar. He looked every morning, just in case something might’ve magically appeared while he slept. Those things happened sometimes when you were dealing with WICKED.

 

And so he sat, staring at that door. Waiting. White walls and silence. The smell of his own body. Left to think about his friends. He didn’t know exactly who was still alive, had never even learnt the names of all the Gladers.

Teresa, Rachel, Aris, Newt, Minho, Harriet, Sonya, Miyoko… The names ran through his mind, like they did every day. No matter how much he strained he could only think of fifteen people that he knew to be alive. Excluding himself, Brenda and Jorge.

There were no more memory dreams in that odd room, not a single one. Thomas dissected every single one he had had in the dorms, the Scorch. Grasping for a sliver of information that could help him. Nothing ever came.

 

Maybe all that anger was the last string tethering him to sanity as he waited.

Eat. Sleep. Exercise. Thirst for revenge. That was what he did for three more days. Alone.

 

On the twenty-sixth day, the door opened.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas had imagined it happening, countless times. What he would do, what he would say. How he’d rush forward and tackle anyone who came in, make a run for it, flee, escape. But those thoughts were almost for amusement more than anything. He knew that WICKED wouldn’t let something like that happen. No, he’d need to plan out every detail before he made his move.

 

When it did happen—when that door popped open with a slight puffing sound and began to swing wide—Thomas was surprised at his own reaction: he did nothing. Something told him an invisible barrier had appeared between him and the desk—like back in the dorms after the Maze. The time for action hadn’t arrived. Not yet.

 

He felt only the slightest hint of surprise when the Rat Man walked in—the guy who’d told the Gladers about the last trial they’d been forced on, through the Scorch. Same long nose, same weasel-like eyes; that greasy hair, combed over an obvious bald spot that took up half his head. Same ridiculous white suit. He looked paler than the last time Thomas had seen him, though, and he was holding a thick folder filled with dozens of crinkled and messily stacked papers in the crook of one elbow and dragging a straight-backed chair.

 

“Good morning, Thomas,” he said with a stiff nod. Without waiting for a response, he pulled the door shut, set the chair behind the desk and took a seat. He placed the folder in front of him, opened it and started flipping through the pages. When he found what he’d been looking for he stopped and rested his hands on top. Then he flashed a pathetic grin, his eyes settling on Thomas.

 

When Thomas finally spoke, he realized that he hadn’t done so in weeks, and his voice came out like a croak. “It’ll only be a good morning if you let me out.”

“We will get to that shortly. Everything will make sense to you very soon.” The man spoke as if he was asking for a second sugar in his coffee, not trying to placate a human guinea pig.

Thomas knew a lot of words for hate, but none of them encapsulated his emotions, not even a little.

 

He wanted to rip the man apart, strangle him, but he had to force himself to stay calm, or they might never let him out.

“I … want you to tell me everything. Now.” The words came slowly, the steadiness forced.

 

“Oh, Thomas.” The Rat Man said it quietly, as if delivering sad news to a small child. “We didn’t lie to you. You do have the Flare.”

 

Thomas was taken aback; a chill cut through the heat of his rage. Was Rat Man lying even now? he wondered. But he shrugged, as if the news were something he’d suspected all along. “Well, I haven’t started going crazy yet.” At a certain point—after all that time crossing the Scorch, being with Brenda, surrounded by Cranks—he’d come to terms with the fact that he’d catch the virus eventually. But he told himself that for now he was still okay. Still sane. And that was all that mattered at the moment.

 

Rat Man sighed. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand what I came in here to tell you.”

“Why would I believe a word that comes out of your mouth? How could you possibly expect me to?”

 

Thomas realized that he’d stood up, though he had no memory of doing so. His chest lurched with heavy breaths. He had to get control of himself. Rat Man’s stare was cold, his eyes black pits. Regardless of whether this man was lying to him, Thomas knew he was going to have to hear him out if he ever wanted to leave this white room. He forced his breathing to slow. He waited.

 

After several seconds of silence, his visitor continued. “I know we’ve lied to you. Often. We’ve done some awful things to you and your friends. But it was all part of a plan that you not only agreed to but helped set in place. We’ve had to take it all a little farther than we’d hoped in the beginning—there’s no doubt about that. However, everything has stayed true to the spirit of what the Creators envisioned—what you envisioned in their place after they were … purged.”

 

Thomas slowly shook his head; he knew he’d been involved with these people once, somehow, but the concept of putting anyone through what he’d gone through was incomprehensible. “You didn’t answer me. How can you possibly expect me to believe anything you say?” He recalled more than he let on, of course. Though the window to his past was caked with grime, revealing little more than splotchy glimpses, he knew he’d worked with WICKED. He knew Teresa had, too, and that they’d helped create the Maze. There’d been other flashes of memory.

 

“Because, Thomas, there’s no value in keeping you in the dark,” Rat Man said. “Not anymore.”

He stood, clutching his strange folder, walked to the door.

“Unless you’d rather stay in here.” Rat Man motioned to Thomas.

Thomas was slightly embarrassed by how quickly he stood and followed.

 

Showers had been delightful before, after leaving the Maze and the Scorch, but none of them had ever felt this good.

He washed himself from head to toe again and again, until there was no more dirt left anywhere on his body. Then dressed in some of the clean clothes provided, it felt like heaven.

 

Rat Man reappeared, gestured for Thomas to follow him.

“You will be reunited with your friends now. And we will tell you all what is to happen next.”

Next. Was there another Trial? Had the past month in that awful room been a Trial? What was the purpose of it all? Thomas’s mind spun with questions.

 

 They entered a small auditorium and relief washed over Thomas. Sitting scattered among a dozen or so rows of seats were his friends, safe and healthy-looking. The Gladers. Teresa. Aris. Minho. Frypan. Newt. Sonya. Harriet. Everyone seemed happy—talking, smiling and laughing—though maybe they were faking, to some extent. Thomas assumed they’d also been told things were almost over, but he doubted anyone believed it. He certainly didn’t. Not yet.

 

Where was Rachel? The thought suddenly hit Thomas. She wasn’t with Teresa and Aris, wasn’t in the room at all.

He was about to open his mouth and demand Rat Man told him where she was when another door opened, and she appeared escorted by a severe gray-haired woman.

 

She ran over, hugged him tight. The other Gladers had noticed them now, jumping out of their seats and shouting. For a moment Thomas just let himself hold her, was reminded of the morning after he had spent that awful night in the Maze.

Teresa and Aris had appeared by the time Thomas let go. They all embraced each other, for a moment so happy at being reunited nothing else really mattered.

 

Others greeted him when they broke apart; Newt, Harriet, Sonya, Minho had Miyoko beside him. She looked angry and tired, odd when everyone else was happy.

 Rat Man came marching down the aisle clapping his hands. “Everybody take a seat. We’ve got a few things to cover before we remove the Swipe.”

 

He’d said it so casually, Thomas almost didn’t catch it. The words registered—remove the Swipe—and he froze.

 

The room stilled, and the Rat Man stepped up onto the stage at the front of the room and approached the lectern. He gripped the edges and repeated the same forced smile from earlier, then spoke. “That’s right, ladies and gents. You’re about to get all your memories back. Every last one of them.”

 

Thomas was sat between Teresa and Rachel, and glad of it. His memories returned, their memories. They would remember everything they had done to the Gladers, how they had started the Trials. Could he take that, would the others hate them?

 

“But before all that. You deserve an explanation on why we subjected you to the Trials.” Rat Man began from his podium, despite his loathing of the man and everything he stood for Thomas let the speech have his full attention.

 

“As you may or may not be aware our world has been devasted by unpredictable solar flares, fourteen years ago to be precise. This killed millions of people and has rendered the areas near the equator almost entirely uninhabitable, the polar icecaps melted, flooding millions of acres of coastal land and islands.

 

“Following this disaster, remaining world governments combined themselves to form FIRE, the Flares International Recovery Endeavour.” Someone shouted something about inappropriate acronyms and Thomas had to agree. Once it was again silent the man continued.

 

“As it sought to reintroduce order to a chaotic world FIRE discovered that the flares had caused the release of a deadly virus from a biochemical lab in the eastern United States. This virus quickly mutated, it is what you now know as the Flare.” Teresa tensed beside Thomas and he squeezed her hand, wondering why it would affect her.

 

“The virus is utterly incurable and highly contagious, driving those infected insane. Safe zones have been established worldwide in cities that were still standing but the virus always finds its way in.

“For a time it was believed that this would be the end of humanity, until we discovered an immunity. It is found in less that one percent of the population, and chiefly in those who were under the age of twenty at the time of the Flares. WICKED developed from FIRE in an attempt to find a cure for the disease. To do this the immune would have to be tested, their brains. Your brains. Manipulated so that we could discover exactly what makes them different.” The man gave a sickening smile.

 

“What makes you different. Of course, you are not all immune, and who is not will be announced in due time, we had to have a control group as no experiment is worth anything without one. These tests, are what you have come to know as the Trials, the Maze, the Scorch, and now the Phase Three that you have just returned from. The blueprint for the cure is almost complete, and with your memories restored you will be able to aid us in our final steps in saving humanity.”

* * *

**A/N: How do you like my explanation of the Maze Runner world? I will have the next chapter up maybe tomorrow or Thursday, but now I have to get back to my EPQ. If you don't know what that is I envy you.**


	3. Chapter 3

The second the Rat Man finished the room erupted into noise, it was too much to take in. The state of the world, why the Trials had happened, that in the end almost all of them had been safe from the virus. It had sounded rehearsed, to lure them in. But after the Maze Thomas was sure none of the Gladers would be stupid enough to fall for their lies.

 

Getting his memories back seemed good theoretically, he would finally understand the strange dreams, his strange connection to his friends. Although, he would also understand what they had done to the rest of the Gladers. Would they be hated? Would it be like Gally again but twenty-fold?

 

“What should we do?” Aris whispered, the rest of the room was shouting chaos that Harriet was trying to calm. Judging by the fact that she was threatening Minho with castration Thomas didn’t think she was having a terrific amount of success.

“I say we should do it. Even if we don’t do what they say after we’ll be in a better position if we understand.” Teresa was making sense, a lot of it.

 

“But what else could they do in our minds.” Rachel was also making sense. “I mean, I want to remember, but after everything who knows what they might do in there?” She tapped her temple.

They all thought for a long, long moment. The shouting was still going on, but it seemed to be calming, it sounded like most people were choosing to go ahead with the procedure.

 

Thomas thought he might risk it. It seemed stupid but as Rat Man had said, promised, there was no reason to keep them in the dark any more. No more Trials. His memories would answer his questions, get him out from under their thumb of control.

 

“I say we do it.” He said aloud, almost all of the rest of the Gladers were silent.

“Same here.” Aris smiled, Thomas looked at Rachel and Teresa and saw their agreement plainly.

It was settled then, they would take this risk. Thomas thought of the dream of the four of them, just before the Maze. Rachel reaching for his hand, promising to stay with him until the end.

 

They would stick together, always.

 

“What’re ya thinkin’ over here.” Sonya was followed by Harriet, who looked like she hadn’t slept since leaving the Scorch. For all Thomas knew the bags under her eyes could be tattoos.

“That we’ll do it.” Teresa said as they sat.

“Then we’re in agreement. Any compelling arguments for those two.” Harriet gestured to Minho and Newt, arguing with Frypan and Beth. “They’re being stupid, and Minho does not seem to value his manhood at all.”

 

“You’ve threatened to cut it off three times today.” Sonya rolled her eyes at her friend. “After a while it loses the power.”

“Yet it’s still a great shame I don’t have my dagger.” Thomas wanted to edge away from the glint in Harriet’s eyes, but he’d end up in Teresa’s lap.

 

“Alright, now, settle down.” Rat Man said from his podium, then repeated it several more times at gradually louder volumes until everyone shut up.

“I understand that this is daunting for you, but you have our word that we will remove all the equipment inside your brains. This will remove the Swipe that suppresses your memories, the equipment that allows us to control you and confuse your senses, the necessary machinery used to create telepathic connections.” His beady eyes swept over Thomas and his group.

 

Thomas thought he could sacrifice the telepathy for his memories.

“Everything except the miniscule chips that record your brain activity will be taken out. Now if you will all follow me regardless of your decisions.”

Rat Man turned, walked out the door. The Gladers followed him.

 

He led them down several turns of the windowless hallway until they finally reached a large steel door. It was heavily bolted and looked to be sealed against outside air. Their white-clad leader placed a key card next to a square recess in the steel, and after a few clicks, the large slab of metal slid open with a grinding sound that reminded Thomas of the Doors in the Glade.

 

Then there was another door; once the group had filed into a small vestibule, the Rat Man closed the first door and, with the same card, unlocked the second. On the other side was a big room that looked like nothing special—same tile floors and beige walls as the hallway. Lots of cabinets and counters. And several beds lined the back wall, each with a menacing, foreign-looking contraption of shiny metal and plastic tubes in the shape of a mask hanging over it. Thomas couldn’t imagine letting someone place that thing on his face.

 

Rat Man gestured toward the beds. “This is how we’re going to remove the Swipe from your brains,” Rat Man announced. “Don’t worry, I know these devices look frightening, but the procedure won’t hurt nearly as much as you might think.”

“Nearly as much?” Frypan repeated. “I don’t like the sound of that. So it does hurt, is what you’re really saying.”

 

“Of course you’ll experience minor discomfort—it is a surgery,” Rat Man said as he walked over to a large machine to the left of the beds. It had dozens of blinking lights and buttons and screens. “We’ll be removing a small device from the part of your brain devoted to long-term memory. But it’s not as bad as it might sound, I promise.” He started pressing buttons and a buzzing hum filled the room.

 

“Now.” The man fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it close to his face. “I almost forgot. I must unfortunately inform you who amongst your group is not immune to the Flare.”

That shocked everyone to silence. Rat Man hardly seemed to notice.

“Okay, then. Most of you are immune and have helped us gather invaluable data. Only a very few of you are considered Candidates now, but we’ll go into that later. Let’s get to the list. The following people are not immune…”

 

Thomas didn’t know any of the first few names, there were maybe six of them. He only really noticed that they didn’t include himself, Teresa, Rachel, Aris.

“And Miyoko.” The man finished, shoved the paper back into his pocket. One girl had fallen to the ground, friends trying to comfort her. A kid called Jackson was staring into space, another boy crying.

 

But what Thomas noticed most was Minho, he was shocked into silence for what may have been the first time in his life, looked almost as if he might cry.

Miyoko, on the other hand, looked mostly irritated despite having received what was worse than a death sentence.

“Slim yourself Min’. We all figured we were gonna go crazy in the end. What’s the difference?” He didn’t respond to her and she looked about to shout at him before Harriet stepped in.

 

“That’s enough. We’ll talk about this later.” Her glare at Rat Man was so intense Thomas wouldn’t have been surprised if he spontaneously burst into flames.

“I wanted to get that out of the way,” Rat Man said. “Mainly so I could tell you myself and remind you that the whole point of this operation has been to build toward a Cure. Most of you not immune are in the early stages of the Flare, and I have every confidence that you’ll be taken care of before it goes too far. But the Trials required your participation.”

 

Rat Man walked over to the closest bed, then reached up and put a hand on the odd metallic device hanging from the ceiling. “This is something we’re very proud of here—a feat of scientific and medical engineering. It’s called a Retractor, and it will be performing this procedure. It’ll be placed on your face—and I promise you’ll still look just as pretty when everything is done. Small wires within the device will descend and enter your ear canals. From there they will remove the machinery in your brain. Our doctors and nurses will give you a sedative to calm your nerves and something to dull the discomfort.”

 

He paused to glance around the room. “You will fall into a trancelike state as the nerves repair themselves and your memories return, similar to what some of you went through during what you called the Changing back in the Maze. But not nearly as bad, I promise. Much of that was for the purpose of stimulating brain patterns. We have several more rooms like this one, and a whole team of doctors waiting to get started. Now, I’m sure you have a million questions, but most of them will be answered by your own memories, so I’m going to wait until after the procedure for any more Q and A.”

 

He sauntered off to speak to some medical staff, who had been watching the whole scene with detached, blank expressions.

“We’re all crazy enough to do this aren’t we?” Newt looked around at the Gladers. No one protested so Thomas assumed the answer was yes. Minho hadn’t spoken since Rat Man announced that he would lose his Counterweight. Thomas thought of how he had seen Harriet react to Alby’s death, how the girl in the tunnel before the Scorch had screamed and screamed for her partner.

 

But at least it wasn’t Rachel. His thoughts were a traitor, but they were true. Despite the budding bond with Teresa that Thomas enjoyed so much but couldn’t describe with words, the easy connection he had with Aris, Rachel meant something special to him. She didn’t mean more than either of the others, but it had been her eyes he met in the terror of the Box, her face the first he had seen in real memory. The bond was special, but not unique, he couldn’t imagine losing it.

 

And Thomas had had Rachel with him for just over two months. Minho had had Miyoko by his side for over two years.

Sonya was comforting them, usually Harriet’s job but she had gone to talk to Beth and Alejandra.

 

Rat Man finally came back, each doctor—Thomas assumed they were doctors, like Rat Man had said—took a place next to one of the beds. They fidgeted with the masks that hung from the ceiling, adjusting the tubes, tinkering with knobs and switches Thomas couldn’t see.

 

“We’ve already assigned each of you a bed,” Rat Man said, looking down at papers on a clipboard he’d brought back with him. “Those staying in this room are Harriet, Sonya, Newt and Beth. If I didn’t call your name, please follow me.”

They had the lowest subject numbers apart from Thomas, Rachel, Aris and Teresa. That had to be how they were doing this.

 

The group was led from identical room to identical room, calling boys and girls in order of subject names, partners always together. Each room had six beds but almost none were filled, the absences of the dead had never felt so real.

Thomas and his friends were the last ones left.

 

“I hope you four understand how you are different to our other subjects.” Rat Man began. “You were, are, I should say, our Elites.” He led them to a room with only four beds, larger and more comfortable than all the others they had seen. “Soon you will understand and regain your places at the head of our illustrious organisation.”

Then he turned and left.

 

“What was that about?” Rachel shook her head. “The crazy bastard.”

“Let’s find out.” Teresa gave a forced smile, let a nurse lead her away, pull the curtains around a bed.

 

Aris and Rachel were also quickly intercepted by medical staff, pulled behind curtains. Thomas stood in the centre of the room, unsure of what to do, hearing hydraulic hisses and rustling of cloth.

Then he was suddenly face to face with Brenda.

 

She was completely clean, dressed in medical scrubs, smiling. Before he could ask her even one of the million questions buzzing like angry bees in his mind she pulled him into a hug, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t trust them. Do not trust them. Only me and Chancellor Paige, Thomas. Ever. No one else. And keep quiet.” She led him behind the final curtain, where a doctor as individual as a grain of sand in the Scorch waited.

 

He was given a hospital gown, changed into it, sank onto the bed. It was soft, comfortable, the blankets warm. Why were they being treated with such luxury?

The doctor slowly lowered the mask over his face. Brenda injected something into his arm, whispering something that Thomas didn’t catch as the drugs took over his mind.

The last thing he knew was an odd sensation, like cold, slimy worms burrowing into his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

When he awoke the room was empty, Thomas tried to process everything he had learned as he looked around. The medical staff, even Brenda, had all left and he knew that the door would be locked.

 

Brenda and Jorge, that made sense now, but their lies meant Thomas would have to think long and hard about really trusting them. They had only done their jobs, but they were loyal to Chancellor Paige, and she had betrayed them.

 

The curtains around his bed and all the others were open, he could see his friends.

Aris slept, Rachel rubbed her eyes, Teresa sat listlessly on the edge of her mattress, staring at her hands.

 

Everything had come back, the answers to every question that had plagued him at his fingertips. The only answer he didn’t have was what had truly happened before the Swipe.

He had said goodbye to his friends, left to walk down the corridor to amnesia with Rachel. Only they hadn’t been meant to lose their memories at all.

 

Then Chancellor Paige had pulled him away, to have some tea with her, a last word, sent Rachel ahead.

The tea had been drugged, his memories forcibly stolen.

But had Rachel forgotten? Teresa? Aris? The chancellor had betrayed them all.

They had been supposed to save everyone.

 

Teresa must have noticed he was awake because she walked over, sat on the side of his bed and he moved over for her. The room was chilly and not long ago she would have had no reservations about climbing in beside him. So much had changed in such a short time.

“You remembered. All along.” It was all Thomas could get out, there were tears in her eyes. Rachel watched for a moment with curiosity then buried herself under her comforter.

 

“She made us. Me and Aris. Somehow, she knew our plan, she threatened you, threatened Rachel. We didn’t have a choice.” That Thomas could believe. He thought of how Aris had pulled Rachel out the way of Beth’s knife. His face filled with horror, then rage at the woman. Chancellor Paige, she had betrayed them. Why had Brenda told him to trust her?

 

For a moment there was silence between them.

“Thomas?” Teresa sounded more like a little girl now than Thomas thought she had ever been. “Do you hate us? Just please tell me.” She shivered, he sat up, cupped her cheek with a hand.

“No. It’s WICKED I hate. They did this, all of this.” The relief on her face broke his heart, he lifted one side of the duvet and she slipped underneath.

 

They had never been lovers, not like Rachel and Aris, those were a few memories that certainly made Thomas smile, but the potential had always been there, had grown during the Trials.

He was still so tired from the surgery, but his thoughts swarmed with memory.

Alby, Newt, Minho, Harriet, Sonya, Miyoko. How they had all been friends once, but only at night because it wasn’t strictly allowed. The botched escape that explained Gally’s hatred, the betrayal on their friends’ faces when they had left them to the Swipe.

 

Chuck and Flo, like a younger brother and sister, always happy, always smiling. How they had gone to enter the Trials to save them, save everyone from the horrors of the Scorch.

It had always been the plan for the Elites to be Inserted to end the Maze Trials, after they had run their five year course. Or that was the plan before Ava Paige infected the original Creators with the Flare to get her way. Thomas had never known if she intended to Insert them at all.

 

They had requested Insertion without memories to act as spies, so they could report back, but really so they could save the Gladers, but she had found out.

 

Thomas and perhaps Rachel had been Swiped, and Teresa and Aris blackmailed with their lives into complicit silence. They had played right into their hands.

If Thomas thought, he had hated WICKED before it was nothing to how he felt now. To think that that woman had called Teresa  _The Betrayer_.

 

They would have to play along again, but better, plan better. Then they could really, truly escape.

Teresa had fallen asleep beside Thomas, their arms twined around each other, they spent their first night of full memory just how they had spent their last.

 

It was Rachel who woke them, by throwing cold water in their faces. Swipe or no Swipe, she was always the same.

But did she ever lose her memories? Thomas had to know, but he can’t ask in a roomful of cameras.

  
“C’mon, I know you’re all cosy but we gotta get up, take a shower and be in the main room for breakfast briefing.”

Seeing the other Gladers. Thomas did not look forward to that, what would they think of them?

 

“Gotta play along, be their nice little pets again.” Aris was himself too, Thomas knew he didn’t lose his memory, he never changed. Briefly he wondered if he could have acted so well.

They get themselves ready quickly, Thomas was left with Aris while the girls showered, wondering what he could say. It was probably best to keep to what he told Teresa.

 

“It’s all a mess isn’t it.” Thomas began, he was never eloquent, that was always Rachel’s expertise.

“You are still the king of understatement Tom.” The nickname was easy, sounded right. Thomas remembered it all now. They called each other Tom, Tess, Rach and Ari, hardly ever anything else.

“Now what do I tell Rach that won’t get me hit upside the head.” Thomas had to smile at his friend.

 

“Try to redirect her anger, just make sure she doesn’t kill Janson.” That might be easier said than done. “I’ve already talked to Tess. It’s WICKED we need to be angry at, and we’re smarter this time. We’ll do it.”

They will. Cure or no Cure, they will finally be free.

Teresa and Rachel returned, and Thomas made a beeline for the shower, washing away the awful feeling of the surgery.

 

Afterwards they waited. Rachel said she was told someone would come to fetch them, and there was no way they would be forgotten

It was Brenda who came to fetch them. Thomas really needed to arrange a meeting with her and Jorge, spout some rubbish about discussing the state of the Scorch, how many people there could be helped by a Cure. Then force them to answer his questions.

 

All the other Gladers were waiting for them in the auditorium, looking impatient, of course Janson had to do that.

“We can fire him you know.” Teresa whispered. That became the first on Thomas’s mental list of priorities:

 

  1. Fire Janson, preferably get him all the way out of WICKED.
  2. Figure out who wanted to lynch them.
  3. Interrogate Jorge and Brenda.
  4. Get some answers from Chancellor Paige.
  5. Find how close they actually are to a Cure.
  6. Have a long, long talk with Teresa. Rachel and Aris too but particularly Teresa. Last night didn’t cover all of it.



 

But before he could get to any of that he had to play along.

Janson gestured to a separate table, despite there being room on the benches with everyone else. He was trying to cause friction, resentment, the sadistic bastard.

“So, now we are all here and fully  _enlightened_ , we can get down to business. We are very close to a Cure and further steps will be discussed with those known to be higher, potentially final candidates.”

Subjects 3-10 are higher candidates, of these fourteen eleven are still alive. Subjects 1-2 are the elite candidates. Thomas dreaded finding out what exactly they were candidates for.

 

Rat Man, Thomas was still going to call him that, spent maybe fifteen minutes waxing poetic about the service they had done humanity, how they would be rewarded when the Cure was finally achieved. He put a lot of emphasis on the Elites, explained their purpose in the Trials, praised Teresa and Aris for their acting skills.

  
So Rachel hadn’t remembered then.

“He’s trying to get us killed.” She muttered under her breath. Janson did always dislike them.

Eventually Rat Man finished praising himself and left them all, so he could ‘speak to his associates’. Thomas had never felt so exposed or afraid in his entire life.

**A/N: Hope this chapter was ok, I'm going to write what Phase Three was for other characters as a oneshot soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

Minho started to say something to Harriet, sounding angry and glaring at Teresa in particular.

What were they supposed to tell them? Most of the Gladers didn’t look at them but the few that did did so with veiled hatred. They had put them through the Swipe, the Box, the Maze, of course they would hate them.

 

It was Frypan who got up and came over to them first.

“I don’t blame you.” His voice wasn’t as confident as it usually was. “I mean, did any of us ever have a choice, no matter what they made it seem like.” The cook was definitely right, they had been manipulated since they came here and out of a hundred and twenty subjects over a hundred had been under WICKED’s care by their sixth birthday. They had no understanding of real freedom so whenever a crack was left for them to slip through they would scramble to it. Straight into trap after trap.

 

“Thanks.” Teresa said sincerely, turning to Thomas and the others. “What do we do?” That Thomas didn’t know. Harriet had been an ally throughout the Trials, but she could well blame them for Alby’s death. Minho was incensed and after being tortured by a Griever he had had serious anger issues he didn’t want to be in the way of. Miyoko had the Flare now and was going to be unstable, and Minho would side with her.

 

Of their childhood friends Newt and Sonya could well be the best bet.

“We go talk to Sonya and Newt.” The idea cemented itself in Thomas’s mind when the words left his lips,  _ fire Janson _ slipped a rung down on the priority list.

Thomas stood, Teresa following him, Aris and Rachel were conversing in whispers, glancing about the room.

 

“What do you want?” Sonya sounded angrier than Thomas had ever known her, he tried to take solace in the fact that Newt was the calmer one, even if he could still be a loose cannon.

“To see if you’ll still talk to us.” Teresa sat opposite Harriet, who looked on the verge of tears, many Gladers were crying, again mourning dead friends now they could really remember everything they had meant to them.

They could never be the children they had once been again, or the ignorant Gladers, now they were entirely new people, a conglomeration of identities. They were new now, and they could - would - be better than they had ever been.

 

“Yes, most of these shanks are pissed at WICKED. Quite rightly. To them you represent that.” Of course Newt’s words made sense, it had been decided that having people their own age prep the subjects would make them more compliant. “You just need to convince them you’re not like Rat Man and all the rest.” The older boy then turned to his sister, as Thomas now remembered Sonya was. She had been rolling her eyes the whole time and looked supremely unimpressed

“Lizzy. Try be nice, and if you can’t do that go talk to Harriet.”

 

“I’m fine, and I’m with Newt. WICKED’s the enemy.” Harriet sounded as strong as usual, “I’ve got Miyoko persuading Minho.”

That sounded good to Thomas, he knew they didn’t have long until Janson returned.

“Can you try convince the others.” He gestured to the room at large, aware that several people were listening in. “That we’re on your side.”

 

“I think that’ll work.” Newt smiled, “we need to get out of here now. Before they think of something else to do to us.”

If they stayed with WICKED they would never be free. So they had to get out. Jorge had a Berg, Thomas remembered, moving  _ Interrogate Jorge and Brenda _ up the list that now read:

 

  1. Interrogate Jorge and Brenda.
  2.   Fire Janson, preferably get him all the way out of WICKED.
  3. Get some answers from Chancellor Paige.
  4. Find how close they actually are to a Cure.
  5. Have a long, long talk with Teresa. Rachel and Aris too but particularly Teresa. Last night didn’t cover all of it.



 

Rat Man returned before they could plan further.

“Now. I require our Elite Candidates to come to a meeting with Chancellor Paige.I will assume they know where to find her.” Rat Man looked to Aris and Rachel, then Thomas and Teresa in an almost predatory fashion but Thomas didn’t care that might actually be helpful. 

“And Higher Candidates. That is those with subject numbers one through ten, to follow me. Excluding Miss Miyoko who is to stay here with the other Control Subjects until guards come to escort you to our isolation wing. All others may return to your dormitories.”

 

Most Gladers immediately headed back to the dorms, the ‘Higher Candidates’ reluctantly joining Rat Man. Thomas and Teresa went back to Aris and Rachel. Of course they knew where to find the Chancellor.

  
“What do you think the  _ witch _ wants us for?” Rachel questioned once they left, but not in quite those words, Thomas had hoped there would be breakfast involved in ‘breakfast briefing’ but apparently not.

“To congratulate us. Express disappointment in our plan that started this whole mess and that I didn’t allow her to kill you.” Aris smiled at her.

“Go on about how ‘we’re so close to a cure’ and how ‘only a few more things need to be done’ and that we will ‘save humanity’.” He finished, Thomas thought that was spot on.

 

“Newt thinks most of the Gladers can be persuaded to work with us.” Teresa said, and they all knew Newt could be persuasive.

Thomas opened the door to Chancellor Paige’s office. The woman sat behind her desk typing at her screen, she looked up as they entered, smiled.

 

“Welcome, welcome.” The smile was so incredibly creepy. “Don’t we have a lot to talk about.”

Thomas and the other three sat in the chairs in front of the desk, they had been here enough times to know what to do.

Which is to sit all prim and proper and not speak until one of them is addressed.

 

“Now, I must say how proud I am of your conduct during the Trials. But I am still extremely disappointed with all that silliness we had before, you won’t try anything like that again will you?”

“No, Chancellor Paige.” They said as one. She didn’t seem about to rant at them.

“Good, we can put it all in the past then. We are only a few steps away from a Cure blueprint which you and perhaps some of the Higher Candidates will be instrumental in helping us achieve.”

Aris had called it.

 

“What steps?” Thomas asked, hoping they weren’t something too extreme.

“We will need you and a few Higher Candidates to submit to a handful of simple tests to discover who is our Final Candidate. Who has the last ‘puzzle piece’ if you will, then we will need their brain to finally complete the Cure.” The Chancellor said this so calmly, as if she wasn’t happily talking about the death of a teenager. What said they would stop at one? If the chosen Final Candidate did not give them what they needed they would just keep going, keep murdering.

 

“Which Higher Candidates?” Teresa said tightly, her hands gripping the arms of her chair.

Chancellor Paige leaned forward, considering them.

“You and Thomas are considered the highest of all the Potential Candidates, followed by Aris and Rachel.” Thomas remembered how she had always favoured him and Teresa, the A Elites, and that favouritism had culminated in the attempt on Rachel’s life he knew none of them would ever forget.

 

“And for the Higher Candidates; B4, A5, B5, B6, A7 and A9.” Harriet, Newt, Sonya, Beth, Minho and Frypan. Thomas mentally corrected, they had names, even if they were the silly subject nicknames WICKED had given them, usually refined by calling them Mr Thomas or Miss Teresa. Their real names were only vague memories, in another world him, Teresa, Aris and Rachel would have stayed Stephen, Deedee, Jacob and Adelaide, a happier world where they would have never met.

 

He didn’t even know who most of his friends had been before, only that Newt and Sonya had been Samuel and Elizabeth, and still called each other Sam and Lizzy when no one was listening. To tell the truth Thomas hardly remembered who he had been before.

 

WICKED had taken all of that, taken families, lives, identities, and even after so much they would never stop. They had to get answers from this woman, but Thomas knew he couldn’t do that now, they would have to talk and brainstorm what to say, how and when to say it. But there was something he needed to do he could tackle now.

 

“I would like to have a meeting with Brenda and Jorge.” Thomas realised he didn’t know their last names but knew the Chancellor would understand who he meant.

“As soon as possible, to discuss the state of Scorch settlements and how many people out there could be helped by a Cure.” He phrased it carefully, using words that would appeal, make him seem compliant.

 

“Of course that can be arranged, today you are free to do as you wish whilst we carry out final testing on the Higher Candidates.”

A great opportunity to have the long talk they really needed to.

“Thank you, Chancellor Paige.” They repeated in the robotic voice they had long ago learnt to use with such people. They just had to act like everything was okay and play along, then they could be free.

**A/N: Sorry this is so short. I may not be able to update much at the moment, because I have to revise for my Year 12 mock exams and my Dad needs my computer for a work application and if you give my Dad a device you’ll get it back by Christmas. I’m working on my The Kill Order fanfiction (soon to link into this), and also a oneshot of what other characters experienced in Phase Three.**


	6. Chapter 6

They went back to their old bedrooms in J wing. It was as if nothing had changed, the past two months hadn’t happened at all, all the WICKED personnel seemed determined that if they acted that way towards them it would be so.

 

But Thomas knew entering the Trials, losing and regaining his memory and everything else had irrevocably changed who he was, had changed everyone.

Though for better or for worse remained to be seen.

 

“Whose room are we crashing in?” Rachel asked. Before that had always depended on who had the least messy room but someone would have definitely cleaned since they had last been here.

“We can use mine.” Thomas said, they usually ended up there because Teresa did not like other people in her personal space, Aris left dirty clothes and miscellaneous trash on the floor until the resident bacteria invented the wheel and Rachel piled her books  _ everywhere _ , which wouldn’t have mattered so much if she didn’t have almost three hundred.

 

Thomas smiled at the memory of the time Rachel had pushed a stack of books onto Teresa for waking her and called it a defense system. He loved his friends.

 

They all settled themselves on the bed, neatly made, the room looked the same way it did when he left. It could have been yesterday.

“Where do we start?” Teresa was sat so close to Thomas she was almost on his lap, not that he was complaining.

 

“What happened after you left for the Box?” Aris suggested, it was as good a place as any.

Thomas considered his memories of that day; waking, having breakfast with his friends, saying goodbye. The dream in the Scorch had been altered, he now knew, Aris certainly hadn’t mentioned the Swipe.

 

Thomas had left with Rachel, then Chancellor Paige had pulled him away from her, taunted him, drugged him, Swiped him. What they had done to Rachel he didn’t know.

“These masked guards came and grabbed me, one of them injected me with something. Then I wake up in the Box.” Rachel shrugged, then they all looked to Thomas.

 

“Chancellor Paige meade me go talk to her, she told me how she infected the first Creators, Anderson and all that, so the Trials would go the way she wanted. She drugged me, then I don’t remember.” He explained, that left Teresa and Aris. Teresa had told him the basics but there had to be more.

 

“We were going to watch the cameras.” Teresa twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Then Janson made us go speak with the Chancellor.” Always Chancellor Paige, they had to get rid of her.

“She said she knew about our ‘silly, insignificant rebellion’, but not how. Talked about how Tom was vital to the Trials, but Rach’s death might be of more value than her continued participation. She told us we would keep our memories, but pretend we’d lost them, and telepathically coordinate everything, or she would hurt you, maybe even kill you. She made me write an email to the staff, pretending it was all my idea.”

 

It all made sense. The ‘voices’ Rachel had heard must have been a punishment for Aris not letting her die. 

But who was that even supposed to punish? Thomas wondered for a moment before he realised. It had been to punish Aris, to make him see Rachel in that much distress and not be able to help her, when if he hadn’t saved her her pain would have ended.

 

It must have been a torture for Teresa and Aris to watch him and Rachel, to interact with them knowing that they didn’t remember even a sliver of the years they had shared. They had been together since they were nine years old, not even the Trials had been able to separate them

 

Thomas told them his ideas of what needed to be done, it was evolving rapidly:

 

  1. Get answers from Chancellor Paige.
  2. Meeting with Jorge and Brenda.
  3. Fire Janson, or arrange an accident, possibly the same for Chancellor Paige.
  4. Plan escape with other Gladers.
  5. Make sure no one gets their brain removed.



 

“Those aren’t in any particular order.” He amended when everyone was staring at him.

“That’s all well and good but I want breakfast first.” Aris laughed, according to the clock it was only 8:00 AM but seemed much later.

 

They walked down to the semi closed cafeteria and persuaded the cook to give them toast and a boiled egg each, then went back to their rooms to eat.

This time they went into Aris’s room, which had actually been cleaned, one of the strangest things Thomas had seen yet.

 

“This is unnatural.” Rachel joked, running a foot over the clear floor.

“I can fix that very quickly.” Aris smiled at her, they had kept up their odd routine of arguing even without Rachel’s memories. Teresa had been a little different but Aris had stayed the same, unlocking the part of Rachel’s personality the Swipe couldn’t quite take away.

 

“Please don’t.” Teresa perched on the desk in the corner. “What’s on the cards for today?”

“The Chancellor will be starting that meeting I requested, and she implied we’re banned from seeing the other Gladers.” Thomas said, it wouldn’t stop them but they would have to be discreet.

“So we have a day off. I like that plan.”

 

They spent most of the day sitting and talking, like nothing had ever changed, at one point Rachel went into her room and started reading a novel from exactly where she’d left it.

 

At 4:00 PM Thomas and Teresa were summoned for their meeting with Jorge and Brenda. Aris and Rachel had been discounted as always, Thomas always considered that a serious mistake, they were every bit as clever.

 

The impersonal guard led them to one of hundreds of utilitarian white rooms. That was one of the things about the WICKED compound, the incessant sameness of the rooms, the food, the workers.

It could be enough to drive you crazy even without the Flare.

 

They had to wait ten minutes for Brenda and Jorge to arrive. It was those little things WICKED did, to irritate you with the knowledge that you couldn’t do anything about it. Too bad Thomas knew how to play that game too.

 

“What is this hermanos?” Jorge asked as soon as he walked in and collapsed into a chair, Brenda was more reserved but certainly looked curious.

“Tom knows, so he talks.” Teresa gave him a mischievous look. What was he supposed to say?

 

“So, first of all you aren’t going to rat us out to the Chancellor or anyone else?” That did have to be got out of the way.

“No. What’s this supposed to be?” Brenda looked around.

“We’re pretending to discuss the state of the Scorch so Tom can practise his interrogation skills.” Thomas galred at Teresa.

 

“You didn’t tell me what else we’re doing here. Get going.” Thomas thought he should have brought Aris, he would at least have not thrown him that far under the bus.

 

Thomas didn’t actually know if he could trust the pair sitting across from him, they had been part of WICKED and helped with the Trials, and Brenda had told him to trust Chancellor Paige which was  _ not  _ happening, but he did now remember that she had been a trusted friend at one time.

 

“Why did you tell me to trust the Chancellor?” He addressed Brenda first, that was the most important question.

“She told me to do that, she’s still running everything behind the scenes.” That was good to know, they needed to take out Paige and Janson, preferably with bullets.

 

“So you know what she did before the Maze?” Teresa inquired.

“That you and your friends have terrible planning skills and should have known better than to try that?” Jorge looked between the three of them. “Do I even need to be here?”

No one answered.

 

“That she infected the first Creators so the Trials could go her way, and is planning to remove our brains until they get a Cure.” Teresa finished. The shock Thomas saw on Jorge and Brenda’s faces was surprising, if they were working with the Chancellor wouldn’t they have known something about that. Or maybe she had only confided in Thomas, Teresa and Aris to gloat.

 

“We’re not lying.” Thomas amended, “we need a way out of WICKED and we were hoping you could help us with that.” He was pretty sure Brenda would be in, and Jorge wouldn’t let her go alone, he was also a Berg pilot. It would all work, as long as they said yes.

 

“Who’s ‘we’ and where to?” Jorge’s question did make Thomas feel slightly more optimistic.#

“For the first question, us, Aris and Rachel, and the rest of the Gladers. As for where to, far away from here.”

 

“So when?” Brenda asked, Thomas looked over to Teresa and smiled. They really could do this.


	7. Chapter 7

That was one huge problem out of the way, but it created another. How did they get the news around to the rest of the Gladers in a place full of cameras, microphones and spies? They weren’t likely to let Teresa into the computer system any time soon.

It had been decided that they would execute the escape as soon as preparations were made, they needed a real, bulletproof plan, a feasible destination and about twenty sets of fake documents that would pass inspection.

 

Apparently Jorge did know how to get those and could have it done in two weeks without leaving the WICKED compound. Thomas wasn’t even going to question how that worked, computers were Teresa’s thing and if any of his friends ever became a career criminal he would put his money on Rachel.

 

“Okay, considering Rach and Ari aren’t really expecting us back at any set time and are probably also enjoying being alone, why don’t we make ‘some time’ now?” Teresa asked after they had left Brenda and Jorge to deliberate technicalities. Thomas remembered the conversation on the Berg they had had before he was taken to the white room. Over the last two days any doubt that her feelings for him were anything but genuine had disappeared, he didn’t know what his really were but wasn’t going to decline the invitation.

 

The Trials had allowed the latent potential for a relationship between them to come to the surface. Brenda had mentioned it, Thomas remembered, on his expedition to the Scorch, and Rachel had been teasing them since they had been twelve.

“That sounds amazing.” The corridor was empty and no one had come to escort them back to their rooms. Thomas was dimly aware that he would have to make up some statistics to give Chancellor Paige when they next met with her, but he planned to be the one asking the questions when that happened.

 

Thomas looked at Teresa, who was smiling back at him, somehow both shy and mischievous.

“Come on then.” She took his hand and held it until they returned to her room. It was as perfectly neat and ordered as ever, but Thomas hardly noticed that.

Instead all his focus was on Teresa, watching her tug her hair down around her shoulders.

 

For the first time without drugs involved, it was him who initiated the kiss. It was the best they had ever shared, there were no bystanders about to be woken, no threat of Cranks. They were in what was closest to their own space in the world, and, nothing and no one but Thomas and Teresa.

 

Thomas didn’t know if he had ever been quite this happy, or at least not  _ this sort _ of happy.

Time seemed to lose all meaning, nothing was real except Teresa, the heat of her lips under his, her hair flowing through his hands.

 

Thomas wasn’t sure how much later it was when he heard someone try the door, and considering they were both completely shirtless he was glad Teresa had had the foresight to lock it.

 

“I don’t wanna know what you’re doing in there but do you want dinner?” Aris. Part of Thomas wanted to throttle him.

“Go away.” He shouted back, they could always find a meal later if they wanted one but he wasn’t hungry.

“Suit yourselves, but use protection if you go that far.” Rachel. She slid something crinkly under the door and they both laughed outside.

 

“They’re finally getting payback.” Teresa muttered, picking up the object Rachel had given them and placing it on her desk with distaste. Thomas could well guess what it was.

“At least we know to lock doors. Now where were we.”

 

They never did have dinner, but it was the best night of Thomas’s life.

Until Rachel knocked on the door again at 2:30AM.

“Storage room meeting, ten minutes, make yourselves decent, Minho brought liquor.”

 

“Do we have to come.” Thomas was warm in bed next to Teresa. He did not want to move but there wouldn’t be a choice, and Rachel did know how to pick locks and would do it.

“No.”

 

Teresa groaned but pulled herself out of the bed, pulling on her clothes and attempting to brush her hair, Thomas followed her lead and hoped it was decently strong liquor.

But not as strong as the bottle they had shared with Brenda, Aris and Rachel a few weeks before the Maze and been phenomenally hungover.

 

They eventually arrived in the small, tucked away room, they hadn’t all been here for years. Thomas hated the way his mind zeroed in on the absences of Chuck and Alby.

Considering that Minho lit up when he saw them, poured two glasses of a grey-brown liquid and hugged them both Thomas guessed he was already a little drunk. They seemed entirely forgiven.

 

Miyoko was not there, a definitely sober Harriet said that the wing where infected subjects were being kept was too secure for them to break into, which would have to be fixed for their escape.

The alcohol burned Thomas’s throat, but didn’t make him splutter like the first time he drank, but that had been because Aris spiked his coke.

 

“Did you need what I gave you?” Rachel wasn’t drunk but smelt of drink. How long had they been here before someone decided to fetch him and Teresa.

Thomas couldn’t prevent the blush that crept up his neck, and with Teresa’s pale skin hers was even more obvious.

That made both Rachel and Aris laugh, able to correctly interpret their silences.

 

“Are we really planning an escape drunk?” Teresa inquired of Brenda, who had just removed the bottle from Minho’s possession and hidden it behind a stack of spare uniforms.

“Theoretically they’re just gonna see a bunch of drunk teens and shut off their cameras to go to bed.” Newt glanced at Minho who was now trying to flirt the whereabouts of the alcohol out of a very unimpressed Harriet.

 

“Do we have a plan?” Thomas hoped they did, he didn’t want to have to be the one to make one after his last plan had backfired so badly.

“Jorge’s working on it.” Brenda replied. “We stage a distraction. Code for blow crap up. Then we all make a run for the Bergs while someone frees the  _ controls _ and then hopefully get away from here.”

 

“They can probably track us with those little chips they left in our heads, and they can certainly track a Berg.” Aris interjected, he was right, and short of wearing tinfoil hats Thomas didn’t have much of an idea what they could do for themselves. The tracking device on a Berg was likely easy enough to disable.

 

“Maybe there’s someway to scramble the signals?” Sonya hadn’t been anywhere near the liquor, her eyes were completely clear and Newt wouldn’t have allowed it.

“I think I could do that. Permanently disable them.” Thomas didn’t doubt Teresa could do something like that, she was a genius with computers. It sounded better than being tracked by WICKED.

 

“You’ll have to get onto that.” Harriet had shaken Minho off and he was now talking to Newt and crying. How much had he drunk? They’d all had at least one glass and there was only one bottle. It must have been strong stuff.

 

They debated until it got to 5:00AM and they had to leave to appear asleep in their beds come wake up. Minho had given Thomas, Teresa, Aris and Rachel a sincere apology for the day before then fallen asleep. Then was dragged out of the room by Newt and Harriet.

 

Thomas didn’t envy his hangover and was pleased that he wouldn’t have one, but he was feeling the effects of a night without sleep and knew he wouldn’t enjoy the next day.

 

But they did have the makings of a very decent plan. Brenda was going to tell Jorge what they had decided and the others were to relay the information around the other Gladers. The Higher Candidates had been subjected to what Newt had called ‘very weird brain puzzle tests’ with Thomas and the other Elites to be tested the next day.

 

Tested to have their brains removed, but not if they had anything to say about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Aris and coffee are a terrifying combination

It turned out Thomas’s alarm clock was still set for 6:00AM and still set to the loudest setting possible. Aris and Rachel always said they could hear it from the other side of the corridor and Teresa often banged on the wall to make him turn it off.

 

After only one hour of sleep Thomas needed coffee desperately. He dragged himself out of bed, into the shower, and finally out of his room. The only positive was that he didn’t have a hangover from the alcohol last night, the stuff had been strong but only one glass seemed to have little effect.

 

“Morning!” Aris sounded far too happy for it to be as early as it was. Thomas glared at him.

“No. No happiness this early with this little sleep.” Teresa was still working on the wet tangles of her hair.

 

“You slept, I didn’t bother.” Rachel had a book, but that wasn’t surprising, she  _ always _ had a book. She would also often use one to hit at anyone who annoyed her, which Thomas had been a victim of many times.

 

They walked down to breakfast as normal but were intercepted by Brenda. It seemed to be her job to facilitate communication between the Elites and everyone else.

  
“You’ve got another breakfast briefing, same room as before. Rat Man looks happy so it can’t be about anything good.” She looked around and dropped her voice. “Jorge thinks the plan’s good.” After the last message Brenda turned and walked away from them as if she hadn’t said anything untoward. Was Thomas imagining that she had nodded to Rachel?

 

“I hope there’s breakfast involved this time.” Teresa complained.

“And coffee, I need caffeine or I’m just going to fall asleep again.” Thomas agreed. They had to listen to another one of Rat Man’s smug speeches, then be tested to see whether they should have their brains removed for the good of humanity.

 

Really he doubted the whole ‘Final Candidate’ thing would even work. The Maze Trials were supposed to give all the data required for a Cure blueprint after their five year course. Then Chancellor Paige had to infect Anderson and the others and implement a Phase Two, then Phase Three as a final resort. Even after that they didn’t have everything, perhaps it had all been for nothing. They should have let the immunes have the world as Anderson had once said, focussed on containment and prevention rather than an elusive Cure.

 

When they arrived in the room from yesterday all the Gladers apart from the Control Subjects were present. Thomas hated thinking of them like that, but he didn’t know all their names.

Rat Man hadn’t arrived, and there was actually food on the tables.

Thomas led his friends over to Harriet, Newt and Sonya. Minho wasn’t present, either he was still asleep or too hungover to move.

 

Harriet was glaring into a huge cup of coffee Thomas thought he could smell from where he was sitting. Where could he get one of those? Beside her Sonya appeared to have just dozed off.

 

Minho walked in and slid onto the bench next to Newt, not even glancing at the food.

“Next time we don’t stay up till five in the shucking morning.” Minho was very hungover but no one else seemed affected.

  
“Next time don’t drink the whole bottle of whiskey, or whatever that was.” Newt rolled his eyes at him. “Wake up Lizzy.” He prodded Sonya and she opened her eyes to look at them all through the curtain of her hair.

“I’m not asleep, just let me rest.” She groaned and put her head back on the table.

 

“Why do they have to wake us so early anyway?” Rachel was managing to read, talk, and eat cereal at the same time. “The world won’t end if we sleep in for once.”

 

“They just hate us, remember.” Thomas took a cup of coffee and a bread roll from the trays set in the middle of the table. It all tasted like crap but that was only to be expected.

 

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen!” Janson boomed as he entered the room. Thomas and all seven of his companions groaned simultaneously, earning a dirty look. Not that they were the only ones.

It had only been two days of this and Thomas almost wanted to return to the ignorance of the Trials.

 

“So, as you know the Higher Candidates were tested to discover their potential to be our Final Candidate yesterday.” Rat Man began, Thomas focussed on his food but couldn’t drown out the man’s voice.

 

“Yes and it sucked like wrestling a Griever. Which I have done.” Harriet muttered. Thomas realised he had forgotten to ask about those tests, and really should’ve.

 

“Due to how promising those results have been we now only need to test our Elite Candidates and will have all required data to choose our Candidate within one or two days.” Great. Just shucking great.

 

“I imagine many of you are wondering what is meant by ‘Final Candidate’, but it is quite simple. You all know the purpose of the Trials and you were all always ‘Possible Candidates’ for the final step to create the Cure.” A final step that had been thought up less than a month ago, whereas the Trials had been planned for a decade.

 

“You all know our Elite Candidates, who we always considered the most likely to receive this honour.” Janson’s eyes swept over Thomas, Teresa, Aris, Rachel.

Receive? Honour?

 

“And you also understand that some of you are Higher Candidates. The Final Candidate is the subject among our Elites and Higher Candidates who has given the most promising results and whose brain we will need to remove to create the Cure to the Flare.”

For a moment there was a shocked silence throughout the room, then shouting.

 

Thomas, Rachel, Teresa and Aris were some of the few to remain silent, they already knew about this. Considering the terror on some faces around the room the news of their planned escape hadn’t gotten far. They might have to forget about documents.

 

Aris and Rachel both took cups of coffee, poured  _ a lot _ of espresso powder into them and then gulped them down in approximately three seconds.

Thomas knew what that meant.

“Oh no.” Teresa groaned.

 

“What?” Sonya actually pulled her head out of her hair and looked around.

“Those two haven’t slept all night and just gave themselves a massive hit of caffeine. That means crap is going to go down today.”

 

“Yes it does. Now come on, we’re going to go talk to the Chancellor.” Aris sounded very rational, almost too calm. The two of them had something planned, and Thomas didn’t like that he didn’t know what it was. He didn’t like the crazed look in Rachel’s eyes either.

 

Thomas and Teresa had no choice but to follow them and hope their plan wasn’t too crazy. The last time they had had  _ that  _ much caffeine Thomas had ended up with nightmares.

 

WICKED coffee was incredibly strong. The espresso powder made it fifteen times stronger. Rachel and Aris were crazy on a good day  _ especially Rachel _ , and hadn’t had any caffeine for months. It wasn’t shaping up to be a good day either.

 

Thomas was genuinely terrified, after the time Rachel had done this and  _ persuaded _ the whole Council to give them free rein of the whole complex and complete transparency over all plans for the Trials.

 

With all the thoughts swarming in Thomas’s head he didn’t realise that he and Teresa had been led to within ten paces of Paige’s office.

“Just follow what we do, and pretend you know the plan.” He nodded in response to Aris’s words, sharing a baffled glance with Teresa.

 

Rachel knocked on the door.

“Ah, yes, Dr. Christensen. Please come in. We need to discuss the specifics of the Procedure.” The poor woman was about to get the shock of her life.

Rachel opened the door and marched into the office, the other three followed her, unable to back out now.

 

“Miss Rachel, my appointment with the four of you is not until 1300. Surely Janson told you that?” The Chancellor only looked a little confused.

 

“There’s no mistake.” Aris tripped the computer controlled lock on the door and triggered a silent lockdown. They could easily get out the room but it would be a challenge for anyone to get in.

Now Paige did seem to be getting it.

“Mr Aristotle, open that door now.” She started to reach for an alarm button on her desk.

 

“Oh, sit down. We’re in charge now.” Teresa slapped the woman’s hand away, she seemed to be enjoying this, to finally have command over the person who had been in utter control of their lives. Thomas had to admit he liked the rush of it.

 

“We want answers. To what in the shuck hell this Final Candidate mess is. Thomas told us all about your lies.” Rachel sat in one of the empty chairs as if this was one of the hundreds of times they had been summoned here.

 

“The brain dissection carried out on the Final Candidate is guaranteed to provide a final Cure for the Flare. One life to save millions.” Teresa laughed.

 

“Yes. The ends justify the means.” Thomas remembered before the Purge, when Rachel had said that should be WICKED’s official slogan.

 

“Guaranteed. The Maze Trials were ‘guaranteed’ to give the patterns required. Then Phase Two would solve all the problems. But then you had to make a Phase Three, then a Final Candidate. You don’t really know anything, other than that it might work. You’re just going to keep cutting us up until you have to admit you’ve lost. Then face the world you ruined in your efforts.” It was good to get it all off his chest Thomas thought. Even when they were telepathic he had never felt so  _ connected  _ to his friends. Aris and Rachel had thought this out well.

 

It appeared that their plan for escape was being enacted now, and Brenda had seemed to know something earlier.

 

Then the sirens began.

“That was quick.” Aris looked at the flashing red light in the wall. “Let’s go.”

It had been easy so far, too easy. But they were nowhere near free yet.

**A/N: Things are starting to happen now. Yes. Please tell me what you think of the awful quality of my writing at nearly midnight.**


	9. Chapter 9

Thomas’s adrenaline began to dominate over his tiredness around the third corridor. No guards had appeared yet but the alarms were grating on his nerves.

“Why were we even talking to the Chancellor?” He panted to Rachel.

 

“We were going to interrogate her to learn what we should do but the sirens mean time to run.”

 

“What is going on?” Teresa was just as confused as Thomas, this didn’t make much sense, even though their friends seemed to get it completely.

Although Thomas had decided to give up on trying to understand Rachel approximately an hour after meeting her. It had been a wise decision.

 

“Who else knows about this?” That he did need to understand.

“Everyone from last night excluding you two and possibly Minho. The sirens are an emergency thing and I’m not sure we wanna know quite why.” Aris skidded to a halt outside the room where they had only just eaten. It was entirely empty, food and drink scattered and chairs knocked over. No sign of anyone.

 

There should be people. Thomas realised, but he hadn’t seen any except his friends and Paige.

“They have to be playing with us.” Teresa was right, any time WICKED let you think you were getting away with something they were hiding behind a corner, lying in wait.

 

But not this time.

“Where did everyone go?” Rachel mused, wandering over to where they had been sat to retrieve her book. Thomas found the fact that she was reading  _ Nineteen Eighty-Four _ incredibly ironic considering the circumstances.

 

“Probably heard the alarms and ran. That was the plan.” Aris was chewing on some bread. They were so calm Thomas wanted to scream, he loved them but sometimes they drove him crazier than the Flare might have if he wasn’t so lucky to be born immune.

Even if ‘lucky’ was dependent on opinion.

 

Teresa picked up a key card on the floor that a guard must have dropped in the chaos they had evidently barely missed.

“Then let’s go find them.”

 

They set off at a sprint, the corridors were all empty on the way to the Glader’s dorms, it was also close to the hangar, in case of an emergency where the subjects would have to be evacuated. Surely the others wouldn’t have left without them.

 

But instead of their friends they ran into Janson, accompanied by two guards, holding Launchers. Teresa swore.

 

“Hello children, now what is this, trying to find your friends? Too bad, I think they’ve already left.”

Whether the Rat Man was lying or not Thomas was going to enjoy this revenge.

 

Aris and Rachel teamed up to tackle a guard, and Aris was holding his weapon in a matter of seconds. The other barely knew what had happened before a grenade slammed into her chest, sending her sprawling and crackling with electricity.

 

Thomas really hoped he wouldn’t get shot with one of those today, he picked up the Launcher the woman had dropped and fired it into Janson’s face before the man could try to placate him.

That really did feel good.

 

They waited for the miniature lightning to disappear from his body then Rachel took his keycard, and kicked him for good measure. Now they had full clearance.

The smell of Launcher aftermath and electrocuted person wasn’t pleasant.

 

They had to keep running anyway, through the infinite white corridors to the hangar.

 

“Well there you are. We were about to send an exhibition.” Miyoko looked completely normal, but with the slightly unhinged look Thomas knew to belong to a sleep deprived Rachel.

A look that inspired fear to Thomas, but other people probably wouldn’t notice.

 

“Come on hermanos.” Jorge was shouting. “We want to be out of here in ten.” He then ran onto one of the Bergs, its ramp already open.

 

The Gladers all started to board, almost as frantically as they had left the Scorch. Thomas didn’t know how Miyoko and the other Control Subjects had been freed but wouldn’t question it, it was one less thing for him to worry about.

 

The room cleared quickly, everyone acutely aware that guards were coming, and would be fully prepared to shoot them if necessary.

Thomas really had to stop thinking things like that, he resolved when the doors burst open and grenades began to fly.

 

Rachel cursed and sent several back at them, then bolted off towards the Berg, disappearing up the ramp. Almost everyone had already gone and the engines were starting to roar.

 

Thomas shot his Launcher at the attackers until it was out of ammunition. Then he took off with Teresa and Aris, following a pair of girls Thomas didn’t recognise.

 

It was around then that the grenade hit him in the back.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, any tips on how I can read The Grapes of Wrath before 9:30 tomorrow?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Trigger warning for suicide, but not that graphic.**

 

Thomas’s eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. No, that wasn’t it. Brilliant lights arced in lines across his field of vision, blinding him. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t close his eyelids to block it. Pain washed over his body; his skin felt like it was melting right off his muscle and bones. He tried to scream, but it was as if he’d lost all control of his functions—his arms and legs and torso shook no matter how hard he strained to stop them.

 

Teresa and Aris were doing their best to carry him, but the grenades and bullets had stopped. It was almost like it was still a Trial, situations that made no sense. But if they could disable the chips in their heads and get away from WICKED it would be worth it.

 

One of them was calling out for the Berg to take off, and Thomas was vaguely aware of being dragged up the ramp and the sounds of mechanisms and engines.

“I was gone for fifteen seconds.” Rachel sighed somewhere nearby and far away, the electricity was wearing off now, but all of his muscles were sore from convulsing.

 

Thomas was floating on the edge of consciousness from the pain. Or he was before Teresa slapped him.

“Do not pass out.” She ordered.

He tried to stand and was failing until Teresa helped, which Aris apparently found hilarious.

Then again, him and Rachel could be crazier when this sleep deprived and caffeinated.

 

The room they were in was full of Gladers, most of them looking as stunned by freedom as Thomas felt. Minho, Miyoko and Harriet had already managed to begin a heated argument, something about the Flare and inevitability. Thomas had heard that because the virus thrived on brain activity the Control Subjects were deteriorating at rapid speed.

 

“Did we actually just manage that?” Sonya asked no one in particular.

“Yes.” Newt looked around. “But it seemed too easy, they have two other Bergs and there must be pilots so why aren’t they coming after us?”

 

That was something for Thomas to ponder when he didn’t feel like klunk.

He was suddenly aware of just how tired he was, the Launcher hit having negated the effects of coffee and adrenaline, but not of no sleep.

 

“Have you got a computer here?” Teresa was asking Brenda. “The sooner I get into the system and shut off the tracker on this Berg and the chips in our heads the better chance we’ve got.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll show you.” Thomas felt himself sway as he watched the two girls talk but Rachel caught him.

 

“Go take a nap. I’ll wake you if anything interesting happens.” That could be counted on.

Thomas walked over to a couch and lay down, he was asleep in seconds.

It wasn’t Rachel who woke Thomas in the end. When he came to it was night and the Berg was cold, most people passed out on chairs, sofas or the floor. Teresa was still working feverishly on a laptop with at least five windows open.

 

“You finally woke up.” She shook her head at him, “come help me with this.” Thomas was the worst with computers out of the Elites, but a genius by normal standards, but he didn’t deny her.

 

“What’ve you got?” Windows and Netblock tabs flicked about on the screen at impossible speed. He had to wonder how Teresa was still awake, but Rachel and Aris had fallen asleep which gave Thomas some hope that no one would murder him tomorrow.

 

“We’re not flying now so everyone can sleep. I think I’ve disabled the brain chips, and they were trackers. Brenda says they know a guy in Denver who can get them all the way out, then we can burn the shuck things and scatter the ashes. Like to see Rat Man track those.” Thomas could imagine the man trying and the thought made him smile.

 

“Denver?” Thomas asked. “Is that where we’re going?”

“Uh huh, argued for hours, tired everyone out. Jorge thinks it’ll be easy enough to get in, he’s filling in fake ID forms right now. Brenda knows a guy who can get the chips out of our heads and I know some people who’ll help us.”

 

Thomas was reminded of Teresa’s story of her childhood, the group of immunes who had essentially adopted her but given her up to WICKED because there was never a real choice in the matter. The sort of people crazy enough to help a bunch of wanted fugitives and tough enough to still be alive in this mess of a world.

 

“And the Berg tracker?” He didn’t want to think of the possibility that WICKED was chasing them right now.

“Harriet carved it out the main console with a big knife and tossed it out the window over Canada. Should lead them on a decent wild goose chase. It was odd that they didn’t stop us, they could have.”

 

The earlier fear suddenly came to the front of Thomas’s mind. It made no sense, they were being used somehow, or that had been WICKED’s plan. Brenda and Jorge were trustworthy, and they couldn’t be tracked, so there was some hope that they were finally at least one step ahead.

 

That safety net was almost guaranteed to be gone by tomorrow but Thomas would let himself hope. A part of him needed to, or there was no reason to continue.

 

“Right now I’m trying to get a handle on the world. A lot of activity by this extremist group in Denver. The Right Arm they’re calling themselves. Keep going for WICKED personnel in the streets and blowing up their checkpoints.”

 

So their destination was some sort of war zone, that would make it a lot more dangerous to wander around but a lot less likely to be captured.

It was as good a place as any to head for.

 

The clock on Teresa’s screen showed that it was four thirty in the morning. No point trying to go to sleep but plenty of time to get a shower and breakfast before having to fight for it with a dozen others.

 

“I’m going to wash up and eat.” Thomas told Teresa, he would have to wake Rachel and Aris. He took every chance he could for that and called it revenge for the amount of times they woke him.

“But first.” He pointed to their sleeping friends and Teresa laughed quietly.

 

“Don’t wake  _ everyone _ .” She shut the computer and wandered off down a corridor.

Thomas woke Rachel first, it usually killed both birds with one stone.

 

“Ughhhh, what time is it?” She groaned and stretched, hitting Aris in the nose and knocking a cup onto the floor in the process.

 

“Four thirty.” Thomas smiled, he loved doing this.

“I hate you.” Aris stared at him, awake instantly. “I really hate you.”

 

“Don’t wake me, and I won’t wake you.” Thomas was retorted, it was a miracle any of them ever got any sleep.

“Too much fun to quit.” Rachel got up. “Anything happen?”

 

It was around then that Teresa screamed.

“Not until just then.” The sound had woken several Gladers by the time Teresa ran back in. She looked pale and that was a serious accomplishment. Thomas went over to her and wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders.

What had just happened? What had she seen?

 

“What the hell’s she screaming about?” Newt pushed himself to his elbows where he lay between Minho and Sonya, his best friend and sister. Harriet was nearby and only just stirring.

 

“Why the shuck would I know?” Minho rubbed his eyes and looked around quickly. “Where’s Miyoko…” he started, then his expression changed to horror and he bolted down the corridor Teresa had come from.

 

“What’s all the racket? Some of us are tryna sleep.” Brenda stuck her head in. “Even I don’t wake up this crazy early.”

Thomas then heard Minho scream, a sound tinged with the same horror as Teresa’s had been. The sound Thomas remembered came when someone saw a friend die.

 

He entangled himself from Teresa and made his way towards the focus of the horror, Newt and Sonya joined him. With Harriet motioning for others to stay where they were.

 

The sight when Newt opened the door made Thomas gasp, want to throw up, to run as far away from it as he could get. He immediately understood Minho’s screams, Teresa’s. 

Even if he didn’t quite understand why Sonya pushed Newt back out of the room, shouting for Harriet.

Minho was on his knees on the floor, his mouth hung open, but no sound came out. The fabric of his pants was wet with the blood that spread across the white tiles in scarlet streams.

 

Twin crimson lines on white wrists, a silver razor blade glinting in a limp hand. Unfocused, dead eyes in a smiling, death pale face.

Thomas really did throw up then.

 

Harriet appeared almost immediately.

“Go on out. Make sure Newt goes with you.” She told Thomas, not taking her eyes off the body on the floor. Thomas’s brain rebelled against comprehension of the scene and he fought the urge to vomit again.

 

Sonya gave him a push and he stumbled out of the room. Newt had sunk down to the floor outside, arms wrapped around his knees and weeping. He didn’t respond when Thomas tried to talk to him so he continued back to the main room.

 

People were asking what had happened but he couldn’t find the words to tell them, just knelt next to Teresa. Rachel and Aris had been trying to comfort her and the four of them huddled together on the cold floor.

**A/N: I am very sorry for this chapter but I had to kill someone.**


	11. Chapter 11

It took some time for everyone to figure out what had happened and no one seemed to quite believe it. Thomas could understand why Miyoko had done what she did, suicide rates for those just diagnosed with the Flare were astronomical, but he didn’t understand how Minho and especially Newt had reacted.

 

It had been as if Minho had known it was going to happen, but was still horrified. Thomas remembered Newt’s suicide attempt in the Maze which probably explained why Sonya had made him leave, the image of her finding his crumpled body on the Maze floor would always be in the back of Thomas’s mind.

 

But despite everything the Gladers were all used to death. By 6:00 AM almost everyone had got up and showered, searching for clean clothes and breakfast. There wasn’t much food but Jorge said they would be in Denver by the next day and could sort something out. 

 

Brenda said that fake documents, they only needed ID cards because generally no one cared that much, were being made in order of priority.

With that in mind she passed Thomas four for himself, Teresa, Rachel and Aris with made up last names.

 

“Do these work?” Aris questioned when Thomas gave him one, they had been made on very short notice but looked legitimate enough. However, Thomas had lived at the WICKED compound for close to twelve years, the outside world was an enigma he knew next to nothing about. A lot of his knowledge came from Teresa, who had lived in the city for two years and left when she was six, but a lot could change in a decade.

 

Rachel and Aris could hardly remember their lives before WICKED, when they were children Thomas had overheard several conversations about the ‘B Elites’ and ‘suppression of memories due to trauma’. Sometimes he wished he could have done that, it would have been better than the odd dreams of his father raging, his mother staring at a wall mumbling nonsense, of people burning. Thomas’s first clear memory was of being eighteen months old and having a bad bout of flu, he remembered the sun flares, the aftermath, the discovery of the virus. It was vague but enough for him to understand the mess the world was.

 

“I found food.” Rachel announced, placing a plate of buttered bread on the table. “Let’s eat before Frypan finds out I stole from the kitchen.”

Thomas had to laugh, even though it made everyone look at him strangely, they were so desensitized to death now. A sixteen year old girl had slit her wrists after being infected by the worst disease to ever plague humanity because of an experiment that had achieved nothing, and they were focussed on ID cards and breakfast.

 

It made perfect sense and none at all.

“What’s so funny?” Teresa looked both surprised and slightly concerned.

“The mess our lives are.”

 

“Now that is funny.” Harriet reached over and stole some food. “What’s that?” She looked at Teresa who was playing with a strange bracelet, Thomas had seen it before but she had never explained it, but that could have been because he’d never asked.

The thing was a circular metal cylinder as wide as a finger, and it looked as though there was something in it.

 

“I was given it, for if I ever came home.” She kept picking at a seam in the metal but couldn’t seem to get it open. “That has to mean something.”

 

“Positive family.” Harriet glanced over at Minho, he had put his head in his hands and was ignoring everyone. “He’s gonna lash out at someone if we’re not careful.” Without his Counterweight Minho would certainly be unpredictable, any Glader was affected by the loss of their partner, but if the one who kept the other grounded was lost the effects on the survivor were much more apparent.

 

Thomas knew Harriet had been able to survive without Alby, but he wouldn’t have been able to continue without her, at least not with any semblance of mental stability.

 

They arrived at Denver at around lunchtime, having landed just out of reach of sensors, discussing who would go into the city and what they would do there. Brenda said they had to get some guy called Hans, who used to be a WICKED doctor, check if the chips in their heads were still trackable. They would have to find accomodation, employment, and try not to attract undue attention.

No one mentioned what would be done with the other Control Subjects, but the inevitability of the Flare hung over the small group who had isolated themselves in the corner.

 

Jorge had managed to make enough IDs for everyone else, and stolen several credit chips from WICKED which would give them a decent supply of money until they were all cut off, which would take at least a week.

 

“We should get going there. They won’t be letting anyone in in the evening.” Sonya had a decent point and the group readied themselves to tell a lot of lies.

 

“You guys ready for this?” Brenda asked. They stood outside the Berg, at the foot of the cargo door ramp, just a hundred feet or so in front of a cement wall with big iron doors.   
  
Jorge let out a snort. “I forgot what an inviting place they have here.”

 

“Used to be worse. They put a bullet to your head and took a syringe of blood out your arm, made you stand until they tested it.”

 

“When was that?” Brenda questioned, Thomas was reminded that only him, Aris and Rachel knew of Teresa’s near impossible past.

 

“When I was four, and the Flare was new.”

 

The walk to the exit seemed to take forever, the huge wall and doors growing taller and taller as the group approached them. When they finally made it to the foot of the immense doors, an electronic buzz sounded from somewhere, followed by a female voice.   
  
“State your names and your business.”   
  
Jorge answered very loudly. “I’m Jorge Gallaraga, and these are my associates, Brenda Despain, Thomas Murphy, Minho Park…” The names kept going for quite some time. “We’re here for some information gathering and field testing. I’m a certified Berg pilot. I have all the necessary paperwork with me, but you can check it out.” He pulled several data cards from his back pocket and held them up to a camera in the wall.   
  
“Hold, please,” the voice directed. Thomas was sweating—he was sure the lady would sound an alarm any second now. Guards would come rushing out. They’d send them back to WICKED, to the white room, or worse.   
  
He waited, mind racing, for what felt like several minutes before a series of clicks rattled the air, followed by a loud thunk. Then one of the iron doors swung outward, its hinges squealing. Thomas peered through the widening crack and was relieved to see that the narrow alley on the other side was empty. At the end stood another huge wall with another set of doors. Those doors looked more modern, though, and several screens and panels were set into the cement to their right.   
  
“Come on,” Jorge said. He walked through the open door as if he did it every day. They followed Jorge down the alley to the outer wall, where he stopped. The screens and panels Thomas had seen from the other side were complex up close. Jorge pressed a button on the largest and began to enter their fake names and identification numbers. He typed in a few other pieces of information, then fed their data cards into a large slot.   
  
The group waited quietly as a few minutes passed, Thomas’s anxiety growing with every second. He tried not to show it, but he suddenly felt like this had been a huge mistake. They should’ve gone somewhere else less secure, or tried to break in to the city somehow. These people were going to see right through them. Maybe WICKED had already sent out calls to be on the lookout for fugitives.   
  
Slim it, Thomas, he told himself, and for half a second he worried he’d said it out loud.   
The lady’s voice came back. “Papers are in order. Please move to the viral testing station.”   
  
Jorge stepped to the right and a panel on the wall opened. Thomas watched as a mechanical arm came out of it. It was a strange device with what looked like eye sockets. Jorge leaned forward and pressed his face to the machine. As soon as his eyes were lined up to the sockets a small wire snaked out and pricked his neck. There were several hisses and clicks; then the wire retracted back into the device and Jorge stepped away.   
  
The entire panel rotated back into the wall and the device Jorge had used disappeared, replaced by a new one that looked just like it.   
  
“Next,” the lady announced.   
Everyone had to go through that, and it wasn’t pleasant at all, it would definitely be noticed that such a large group of Immunes had entered the city, so they would have to drop their current fake identities and get new ones.

 

The lady finally spoke again. “You’ve all been cleared of VCT and confirmed immune. You do realize that the opportunities for your kind are vast here in Denver. But don’t advertise it too much out on the streets. Everyone here is healthy and virus-free, but there are many who still don’t take kindly to Immunes.”   
  
“We’re here for a few simple tasks and then we’ll be heading out again. Probably in a week or so,” Jorge said. “Hopefully we can keep our little secret a … secret.”

 

“This is a lot better than last time.” Teresa repeated, rubbing her neck where she had been pricked.

“You’ll have to tell me that story later.” Rachel was perfectly calm and still subdued from the events of the morning. Although that could partially be because Thomas had kept her away from coffee, he needed a day of relative calm before his blood pressure hit record levels.

 

a loud beep as the doors began to slide open. Another hallway was revealed, its walls made of metal. There was another set of closed doors at the end of it. Thomas wondered just how long this would go on.   
  
“Enter the detector one at a time, please,” the woman directed. Her voice seemed to follow them to this third hallway. “Mr. Gallaraga first.”   
  
Jorge entered the small space and the doors slid shut behind him. The announcer sounded very bored as she went through all fifteen or so names. No one set off any alarms so all seemed well.

 

Thomas went last, when it was his turn he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him. A rush of air hit him as several low beeps sounded; then the doors in front of him slid open and there were people everywhere. His heartbeat picked up, but he spotted his waiting friends and relaxed. He was struck by all the activity around him as he joined them. A bustling crowd of men and women—many of whom clutched rags to their mouths—filled a huge atrium topped with a glass ceiling far above, letting in loads of sunshine. Through one corner he could see the tops of several skyscrapers—though these looked nothing like the ones they’d come across in the Scorch. They were brilliant in the sunlight. Thomas was so stunned by everything there was to look at, he almost forgot how nervous he’d been only a moment before.

 

Most of the Gladers looked stunned by the place, and Brenda and Jorge looked slightly embarrassed to be with them. It was nothing compared to Thomas’s vague childhood memories of urban spaces - he didn’t remember where he had lived with his parents except that it had been in a non-flooded, non-Scorched American city.

  
Before he could truly take it all in he noticed a man in a dark blue jacket was approaching them, his gaze set on Thomas. And he didn’t look very happy.   
  
“Hey,” Thomas whispered, nodding toward the stranger.   
  
The man reached them before anyone could respond. He gave the group a curt nod and announced, “We know some people escaped from WICKED. And judging by the Berg you came in on, I’m guessing you’re that group. I highly recommend you accept the advice I’m about to give you. You have nothing to be afraid of—we’re only asking for help and you’ll be protected when you arrive.”   
  
He handed Thomas a slip of paper, spun on his heel and walked off without another word.   
  
“What in the world was that all about?” Teresa asked, looking over Thomas’s shoulder. “What does it say?”   
  
Thomas looked down and read it. “It says, ‘You need to come meet me immediately—I’m with a group called the Right Arm. Corner of Kenwood and Brookshire, Apartment 2792. Thomas, you can bring three others, but one of them has to be Beth if she’s still around.’ ”   
  
A lump formed in Thomas’s throat when he saw the signature at the bottom of the slip of paper. He looked up at his friends, sure his face had gone pale. “It’s from Gally.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Wasn’t he dead?” Thomas thought the girl who spoke was Alejandra, all he knew about her was that she had been a Keeper, her partner was dead, and she did not trust him and the other Elites.

“No, he wasn’t.” That was Beth, she seemed very taken aback by this turn of events, not that Thomas could blame her. He remembered how she had tried to wake Gally in the final chamber before being Controlled to rejoin the rest of the Gladers, so she would know.

 

“Before we go to meet your weird friend I want breakfast, and we need somewhere to stay and a plan.” Jorge was saying. “And we cannot just stand here with you all looking so lost.”

 

“Didn’t you say you knew people here?” Harriet asked Teresa, still working at getting the bracelet open.

 

“Yes, but I don’t know where. I’m sure there’s info in this thing.” The jewellery flew off her wrist due to her irritation and cracked against the floor, the catch opening to reveal a small key and piece of paper.

 

“Well that worked.” Rachel smirked, picking up the pieces and handing them to Teresa. “Let’s go.”

 

Using a money card stolen from WICKED Brenda bought enough monthly travel passes and breakfast for everyone. Thomas decided that stealing money from WICKED wasn’t unethical in the slightest.

 

“So the plan is?” Aris asked after everyone had piled onto a tram full of morning commuters who kept staring at them, something would have to be done about the subject tattoos on their necks. Everyone with long hair was using it to hide them but that still looked suspicious.

 

“We need someone who knows this city. It seems that the choices are crazy people Teresa knows and Gally.” Neither option sounded great to Thomas but he trusted Teresa more than he would ever trust Gally, or Beth.

 

“How do I know that it’s going to be ‘crazy people Teresa knows’.” Rachel was staring out of the window, looking at people and buildings go by. The WICKED propaganda posters and huge portraits of Chancellor Paige that had been defaced en masse, cop machines, flashing lights and advertisements. For someone who remembered nothing but WICKED it must have seemed like another planet. Thomas felt almost as amazed.

 

“There’s an address and phone number, but I think it’d be better to just go. They’ll be able to trace a call. You just have to agree to let me talk.” Teresa had shut the bracelet and put it back on, reading and rereading the paper. Nothing else was written on it, just a few lines and numbers that had been scribbled quickly.

 

He did envy Teresa, that she would likely be able to find her family out here, even if they weren’t strictly related to her. Thomas racked his brains for all of her stories about her early childhood, they weren’t happy ones, but whose were?

 

They got off outside a dingy hotel in a graffiti-ridden neighbourhood. The sort of place no one asked questions as long as you could pay. Jorge gave the clerk a large tip and said something about  _ unlisted _ , buying four rooms for seventeen people. Thomas knew he would be sharing with Teresa, Aris and Rachel but that sounded just fine.

 

“So map of the city.” Rachel printed one from the tiny, old computer in the room that worked well enough, marking the address Teresa had and the one for Gally in pencil. Harriet had used her authority to call a Gathering in the only room with both a NetBlock connection and a working phone. They had to decide what to do and fast, Brenda was in the middle of a call with the guy she said could check the chips in their heads.

 

“Right, current priorities are to…” Newt trailed off unsure, but Sonya stepped in.

 

“Get something to cover our tattoos, investigate these addresses we’ve got, check to see if our brains are on GPS and then see how we’re going to live here.” Put that way it seemed simple, but it wouldn’t be.

 

“Good enough for me.” Harriet smiled weakly at her friend. “Gotta think about those unlucky shanks we left in the Berg.” Minho still hadn’t spoken and no one had prompted him, when he broke his silence it would likely be explosive.

 

“This Right Arm group can cause a lot of trouble, so we’d better make them first, send a few people to go see Gally, there’s enough of us to divide and conquer.” Brenda had a good point, and Thomas mulled it over for a second.

 

“I’ll go to see Gally, he says Beth has to come and I’ll take Rachel too because he’ll be expecting that.” Without his memories Gally wouldn’t know Aris or Teresa at all.

“And Newt because I’ll need a leader.” He could have chosen Harriet but she would be invaluable when Minho did blow up.

 

“Teresa and Aris can go see those people she knows. Teresa decides if anyone else goes.” Thomas continued, amazed that everyone was listening to him.

 

“Better not, we’ll be lucky not to get shot at.” Teresa backed him up.

 

“Do I get a say in this?” Aris rolled his eyes, knowing that the answer was no.

 

“The rest of us stay here?” That was Emme, Thomas was surprised he remembered her name considering he hadn’t heard her voice since the Glade.

 

“Probably best, no way we can all move together without attracting attention.” Brenda had finally gotten off the phone. “Hans says he can see two at once, anytime within reason.”

 

“I’ll go check that out.” Harriet volunteered, Thomas guessed Sonya would go with her.

 

“I can see why they called you the Real Leader Thomas, you’ve got us all in, no complaints.” Thomas wished Frypan hadn’t said that, it was the sort of thing that set people off but no one really responded. The few survivors left were past such things. Fifteen Gladers left, out of a hundred and twenty. Sixteen if the thing with Gally wasn’t a trick.

 

Aris, Teresa, Thomas, Rachel, Harriet, Newt, Sonya, Beth, Minho, Mary, Frypan, Jane, Clint, Emme and Alejandra. Everyone else dead.

**A/N: Sorry for another short chapter, A-Level mocks are a form of torture.**


	13. Chapter 13

Thomas took one of the money cards Jorge had stolen, then left to catch another bus with Rachel, Newt and Beth. Even after only the one trip he had decided that he did not like public transport. Teresa and Aris were walking because their destination wasn’t far.

 

During the journey Thomas stared out of the window again, now his amazement at the existence of a city had disappeared he could see the place for what it really was. 

Some type of security force patrolled every street in great numbers—there were hundreds of them, all wearing red shirts and gas masks, a weapon in one hand and in the other a smaller version of the viral testing device Thomas and his friends had looked into before entering the city. The farther they got from the outside barrier wall, the dirtier the streets became. Trash was everywhere, windows were broken and graffiti decorated almost every wall. And despite the sun glinting off windows high above, a darkness had settled over the place.

 

The bus stop closest to what was apparently Gally’s flat was made of glass, or had been before it was all smashed.

“Cosy place the shank chose.” Newt remarked, staring at a large chunk of red stained rock abandoned on the pavement.

 

Thomas agreed. The place was far from inviting, and the drab gray bricks covered in graffiti made him nervous. He didn’t want to walk up those steps and find out who was waiting inside.

“Come on. Sooner we do this the sooner we can leave.” Rachel started up the steps, forcing the others to follow, she reached the door to Number 2792 and knocked.

 

Warring parts of Thomas’s mind were glad she had just done it and wishing she hadn’t.

Thomas could tell immediately that the black-haired kid who answered was Gally from the Glade. No doubt about it. But his face was badly scarred, covered in raised lines like thin white slugs. His right eye looked permanently swollen, and his nose, which had been big and slightly deformed before the Chuck incident, was markedly crooked.   
  
“Glad you came,” Gally said in his raspy voice. “Because the end of the world is upon us.”   
He stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

 

They did so quickly, Thomas went last and shut the door behind him, hoping he hadn’t made an awful decision.

 

The apartment was empty but tidy, the whole place was very brightly lit, despite the sheet hung over the window as a makeshift curtain.

 

Gally was staring at Beth as if he had seen a ghost, although the reverse would have been more fitting. Thomas realised that he must have prepared himself for her to be dead, almost expected it. The tension lasted a few moments before Gally moved forward in a flash and embraced his partner.

 

Newt, Rachel and Thomas all just watched the pair, they held onto each other for at least a minute before Beth pulled away.

“Good to see you to.” She was smiling brighter than Thomas had ever seen.

 

“I remember, all of it.” Gally sounded entirely numb, WICKED had done something to him, the effects of killing Chuck. How had he even got here?

 

“Let’s sit down.” Beth pulled him down to the floor beside him and everyone else copied her. “Now can you explain what this is, how you’re here?”

 

“I spent a few weeks recovering.” Gally tapped the scarring on his cheek. “But mentally I couldn’t take it, and especially not with my memories back. I still can’t. I acted crazy, like I had the Flare, so they sent me here. The Right Arm ambushed me, and now I’m with them.” It was only a vague overview but it was obvious they wouldn’t get any more information.

 

“I’m sorry about what I did, Gally.” Thomas held the other boy’s gaze with his own as he said it. He wanted Gally to believe him, to know that he understood that WICKED was their shared enemy.   
  
“You’re sorry? I killed Chuck. He’s dead. Because of me.”   
Hearing him say that brought Thomas no relief, only sadness.   
  
“It wasn’t your fault,” Beth shook her head sadly, “I couldn’t stop myself either.”   
  
“That’s a bunch of klunk,” Gally said stiffly. “If I had any kind of guts I could’ve stopped them from Controlling me. But I let them do it to me ’cause I thought I’d be killing Thomas, not Chuck. Not in a million years would I have let myself murder that poor kid.”   
  
“Generous.” Newt snickered but went ignored.

  
“So you wanted me dead?” Thomas asked, surprised at the boy’s honesty.   
  
Gally scoffed. “Don’t get all whiny on me. I hated you and Rachel more than I’d ever hated anybody in my life. But what happened in the past doesn’t matter one lick anymore. We need to talk about the future. About the end of the world.”

 

“Go on then, and make it a real explanation.” Rachel just looked bored.

 

After a long pause, Gally began. “The guy who gave you the note is named Richard. He’s a member of a group called the Right Arm. They have people in every city and town left on this crappy planet. Their whole mission is to bring down our old friends—to use WICKED’s money and influence for things that actually matter—but they don’t have the resources to disrupt an organization so huge and powerful. They want to act, but they’re still missing some information.”   
  
“We’ve heard of them,” Newt said. “But how’d you get involved?”   
  
“They have a couple of spies in the main complex at WICKED, and they got to me, explained how if I faked going crazy, I’d be sent away. I would’ve done anything to get out of that place. Anyway, the Right Arm wanted an insider who knew about how the building functions, the security systems, that kind of klunk. So they attacked my escort car and took me. Brought me here. As for how I knew you were coming, we got an anonymous message over the Netblock. I assumed you guys sent it.”   
  
Thomas hadn’t known anything about that, and he knew no one had been sending any messages, although maybe Teresa should’ve.   
  
“So it wasn’t you,” Gally said. “Then maybe it was someone at headquarters sending out an alert, trying to set up bounty hunters or whatever. Point is, once we knew about it, from there it was just a matter of hacking into the airport system to see where a Berg had shown up.”   
  
“And you brought us here to talk about taking down WICKED?” Thomas asked. Even the remote possibility of such a thing filled him with hope.   
  
Gally nodded slowly and deliberately before he spoke. “You make it sound so easy. But yeah, that’s about the gist of it. We’ve got two big problems on our hands, though.”   
  
“Which are?” Rachel pulled her gaze from her hands, now she was interested.

“First of all, word is that the Flare is running rampant through this whole shuck city and that all kinds of corruption is going on to hide it because the ones who are sick are government bigwigs. They’re hiding the virus with the Bliss—it slows down the Flare so people who have it can blend in with everyone else, but the virus keeps spreading. My guess is it’s the same all over the world. There’s just no way to keep that beast out.”   
  
Thomas felt a fear in his gut. The idea of a world overwhelmed by hordes of Cranks was terrifying. He couldn’t imagine how truly awful things could get—being immune wouldn’t amount to much when that happened.   
  
“What’s the other problem?” Newt asked. “As if that one wasn’t bad enough.”   
  
“People like us.”   
  
“People like us?” Beth repeated, a confused look on her face. “You mean Immunes?”   
  
“Yeah.” Gally leaned forward. “They’re disappearing. Being kidnapped or running away, vanishing into thin air—no one knows. We’ve heard they’re being sold to WICKED so they can conduct new Trials. Start all over if they have to. Whether that’s true or not, the population of immune people in this city and others has been halved in the last six months, and most of them are disappearing without a trace. It’s causing a lot of headaches. The city needs them more than people even realize.”   
  
Thomas’s anxiety went up a notch. “Don’t most people hate the Munies—isn’t that what they call us? Maybe they’re being killed or something.” He hated the other possibility that was occurring to him: that WICKED might be kidnapping them and putting them through exactly what he’d been through. A terrible thought occurred to Thomas: what if Aris and Teresa found nothing, or walked into a trap.   
  
“I doubt that,” Gally said. “We have reliable sources, and this reeks of WICKED to the core. These problems make a bad combination. The Flare is all over the city even though the government claims it’s not. And the Immunes are disappearing. Whatever’s happening, there isn’t gonna be anyone left in Denver. Who knows about other cities.”   
  
“So what does this have to do with us?” Rachel asked.   
  
Gally looked surprised. “What, you don’t care that civilization is about to come to an end? The cities are crumbling. Pretty soon it’s just going to be a world of psychos who want to eat you for supper.”   
  
“Of course we care,” Thomas answered. “But what do you want us to do about it?”   
  
“Hey, all I know is that WICKED has one directive—to find a cure. And it’s pretty obvious that’s never gonna happen. If we had their money, their resources, we could use it to really help. To protect the healthy. I thought you’d want that.”   
  
Thomas did, of course. Desperately.   
  
Gally shrugged when no one responded. “We don’t have much to lose. We might as well try something. Who else is still around?”

 

“Apart from us. Teresa, Aris, Harriet, Minho, Sonya, Frypan, Jane, Mary, Clint, Emme and Alejandra.” Thomas counted them off on his fingers. “We’re with these people called Brenda and Jorge as well, they used to work for WICKED.”

 

Gally’s face fell. “That’s it. Everyone else dead?” He looked broken, Thomas didn’t think he would have taken it well either.

  
“Unfortunately. None of us are with WICKED any more.” Rachel sighed. “And if what you said is true, soon they’ll be no immunes left in the world.”

 

“Gally, do you swear everything you told us is true?” Newt spoke for the first time in a while   
  
“Every bit. The Right Arm wants to take action. They’re planning something even as we speak. They need information about WICKED, though, and who better to help us than you? We need every warm body we can get.”   
  
Thomas decided to trust Gally. Maybe they’d never liked each other, but they had the same enemy, which put them on the same team. “What do we do if we want in?” he finally asked. “Do we come back here? Go somewhere else?”   
  
Gally smiled. “Come back here. Any time before nine or so in the morning, for another week. I should be around. I don’t think we’ll make any moves before then.”   
  
“Moves?” Thomas was itching with curiosity.   
  
“I’ve told you enough. You want more, you come back. I’ll be here.”   
  
Thomas nodded, then held out a hand. Gally shook it.   
  
“I don’t blame you for anything,” Thomas said. “You saw what I’d done for WICKED when you went through the Changing. I wouldn’t have trusted me, either. And I know you didn’t want to kill Chuck. Just don’t plan on hugs every time I see you.”   
  
“The feeling’s mutual.”

 

They got up to leave, but Beth was reluctant, looking around the dingy room, the vitality that seemed to have left Gally’s expression when he saw he would be alone again.

“Do you want me to stay here?” She asked carefully. “Would they allow that?”

 

“I’m quite sure.” Gally’s eyes had lit up, the pair didn’t want to be separated so soon after being reunited. Thomas didn’t blame them.

“Then I’ll stay.” There was a finality in Beth’s tone that wasn’t to be argued with.

 

“I’ll tell Harriet about that then.” Newt opened the door and left, Thomas glanced at Rachel then followed.

 

“That was weird.” The words were out of Rachel’s mouth as soon as they got to the bottom of the stairs. “Do we really want to join a terrorist group?”

 

“Doesn’t seem like there’s a choice.” Thomas didn’t like that part, but he did relish the idea of being revenged on WICKED, rescuing those they had kidnapped.

 

The three of them walked back to the bus stop, the peeling timetable saying that their bus would arrive in ten minutes.

“I wouldn’t count on it to be on time neither.” Newt leant against the cleanest stretch of wall available, dirt rubbing off onto his shirt.

 

“I can live with that. We’ve bigger problems now.” Rachel said ominously. “I wonder how everyone else has been getting on?”

Suddenly, Thomas felt that something bad had happened, glancing at his friends told him they knew it too.


	14. Chapter 14

**Do you need to read my** **_The Kill Order_ ** **story to understand where this is going now? Yes. Have I finished writing it? No, because my life is an absolute mess. I am getting it written ASAP so I’m going to work on that for the next few days and make up for not updating this by adding to my Oneshots story. Sincere apologies.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Like the last chapter of this I posted this is not an update, instead I need some help with deciding where to go with this story. In my last author's note I said that to understand you would have to read my _The Kill Order_ fanfiction, to understand where this story is going but that has never received much interest. Because of this I am wondering if I should remove my  _The Kill Order_ , story and continue with this one closer to the actual books.**

**I'm giving it another 24 hours before I do this anyway, thank you to everyone who actually bothers to read my stories, I know they're not great.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary of my** **_The Kill Order_ ** **story: basically it’s part of my Trials Together AU where the Kill Order crew were immune and are still alive at the time that the main series takes place.**

 

They eventually got back to the hotel after waiting half an hour for the bus, the feeling of unease hadn’t disappeared at all. Thomas wished he still had the telepathy to check on Teresa and Aris, he even tried it in vain hope, but the feeling of the possibility was gone.

 

Brenda met them in the dingy foyer, looking very glad to see them.

“Upstairs now. We have to have another Gathering.” Rachel groaned loudly and Thomas didn’t blame her one bit. The things sucked.

 

“Where’s Beth.” Brenda must have realised that four people had left but only three had returned.

“Stayed with Gally, he’s quite sure the Right Arm will let her in. She was playing concerned friend but that won’t be her only plan.” Newt replied, it didn’t sound like he approved of the idea.

That hadn’t occurred to Thomas but did make sense, but then again he didn’t know Beth well at all. He didn’t really know any of the Gladers especially well, not any more.

 

Entering the largest of their rented rooms Thomas saw Teresa, Aris, Jorge, Minho, Harriet and Mary sat around the room.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asked, hoping they had just left to get lunch or something but knowing it was worse.

 

“Gone, WICKED.” Harriet sighed.

Thomas ran a few numbers through his mind, five gone, including Sonya who was one of their best. Minho was currently dissociating or something, and Newt was physically shaking. Beth was working on insinuating herself into the Right Arm.

 

They had ten people, and maybe allies if Teresa had been successful.

Rachel quickly explained everything they had learnt from Gally, about WICKED, the Right Arm, and the apparently imminent apocalypse.

 

“What happened?” Thomas asked when she was finished, he needed to know how WICKED had found them?

 

“I went and saw that guy Brenda knows about. The chips leftover can’t be tracked, they must have figured out where the Berg came from, and be looking for the group of lost teenagers acting like they found themselves on Mars.” An apt enough description.

 

“They just appeared, started grabbing people, so we all scattered.” Mary examined her hands. “These people in red shirts. They’re supposed to look out for infected but there’s a big bounty for Immunes to be sold to WICKED, they’re going missing everywhere.”

That was not good at all, and considering that Gally had said the world was ending they had walked into something huge that none of them understood.

 

“Great.” Rachel looked around at their now pitifully small group. “Please tell me you got somewhere Tess.”

 

“Yes actually,” Thomas noticed that she was no longer wearing her bracelet so must have given it back. “We could probably go hide out there.” That was likely their best option.

 

“Well we can’t stay here. They’ll be tracking those cards I stole.” Jorge threw five of them onto the bed. “But we can still bleed them dry at an ATM.”

 

Thomas was vaguely aware that everything he had done in the last week was very, very illegal, not that he cared. In their situation legal and moral were two spheres in a venn diagram that hardly made contact.

 

“We can’t all go, it’ll attract too much attention. If Thomas and Rachel come with me and Aris we’ll call you with how it goes.” Teresa said, she was right, but splitting up again might not end well.

 

“That will be best I think. We’ll get busy stealing WICKED’s money.” Brenda snatched up the money cards. “Let’s move.”

 

They had to catch yet another crappy city bus that hadn’t been cleaned in a decade to get to their destination, a neighbourhood that looked very nice compared to almost everywhere else Thomas had seen.

 

Teresa led them to a quite big house, with a small garden and a car parked outside. Thomas remembered it was easy for Immunes to get high paying jobs. She only hesitated slightly before knocking on the door.

 

“I’ve got it, just stop acting like toddlers.” The voice belonged to a woman who sounded irritated but not angry as she swung the door open.

“Okay, again, what is this?” She seemed only slightly surprised as she took the four of them in. Thomas looked at her, early thirties, tall and thin with long red hair, not a description he could place.

 

“We need some help, it’s pretty serious.” Teresa said, looking up and down the street but there didn’t seem to be anyone to hear them.

 

“Uh huh, you’ll wanna come in.” The woman stepped back and held the door open, it was immediately obvious that several people lived in the house. Thomas was caught a little off guard by the sight of a pair of red shirts that were the uniform for the viral testing force. Brenda had said that it was some of them who had captured Sonya and the rest.

 

The they were all inside the woman shut the door and locked it, drawing a metal chain across, Thomas would be lying if that didn’t make him slightly nervous.

 

“Thank you.” Thomas tried, he didn’t know quite what to say to this woman. 

 

“I can let you in, but it’s Alec and Lana who decide if you get to stay. Technically they own this place.” The woman replied, pocketing her key. “Take your shoes off, then come in the main room.”

 

“Wait,” Rachel had bent down to do as the woman asked but stopped her when she moved to leave. “What’s your name?”

 

“Misty.” The woman answered, before turning into a doorway where she could be heard talking to several other people, who seemed to be trying to have an argument too quietly to be heard.

 

“Well this is surprisingly calm.” Aris whispered to Teresa, the only one of them Misty had made eye contact with.

 

“It won’t stay that way.” Teresa put her shoes on a rack under hanging jackets. “Just let me talk.”

 

“I know that. I already did that.” Aris glared at her.

 

“I meant all of you. Come on.”

 

The ‘main room’ Misty had mentioned looked like it was used for everything. There were three sofas, one made up like a bed, a table where used plates and cutlery had been abandoned and a decent sized television that was currently turned off.

 

One man about the same age as Misty introduced himself as Mark, the blonde woman next to him was Trina, two men called Darnell and the Toad. Another man and woman who had to be past fifty were called Alec and Lana.

 

“Well hello again kid. You obviously need something.” Alec addressed Teresa, the man was one of the oldest people Thomas could remember seeing.

 

“Several people got kidnapped by the bounty hunters, sold back to WICKED. We need somewhere to hide.” Teresa seemed apprehensive, Thomas reached over and squeezed her hand.

 

“How many of you are there?” Lana asked, Thomas noticed that she only had one ear, a mass of scarring where the other should have been, but not the burn scars so many people had from the Sun Flares. “It might be doable.”

 

“Apart from us, eight, another girl’s staying with an acquaintance in the Right Arm.”

 

“Fourteen total. That’s a lot.” Remarked the Toad, how did someone get a nickname like that?

 

“If they don’t mind sleeping in the basement and staying quiet. It might be doable.” Trina said, that did sound possible, but Thomas knew he wouldn’t relish sharing a basement with thirteen others, but he had known far worse.

**A/N: As you can see I am working on merging the two stories now. I really need to sleep, and write my EPQ, and two essays, yet I’m doing this.**


	17. Chapter 17

It actually wasn’t that hard to fit fourteen people in the basement of the house, which was carpeted and had a small bathroom and electricity. It was obvious that normally no one ever came down there, there were even a few children’s toys in a box in a corner, which certainly looked as if they had been sat there for eleven years.

 

They didn’t have to stay in the basement during the day, only to stay out of bedrooms and the attic. It wouldn’t make for a permanent arrangement, and Thomas wasn’t exactly comfortable accepting charity, but it would do for the moment.

 

But they had to be quiet, all the time, Mark explained that was because Darnell, Misty and the Toad, who Alec had collectively called ‘The Three Stooges’ for some unknown reason, worked as guards at the Crank Palace outside the city walls. They left at 6PM and came back at 6AM every day and didn’t wake before 4PM. If you woke them they would apparently put salt in your coffee or something.

 

Crank Palace guard was one of the jobs that only Immunes would take, and with all the disappearances the guard ratio was very low. Darnell had mentioned something about some saner Cranks planning an uprising, to take over the city

 

From everything Thomas had heard it seemed that they had walked into the impending apocalypse. Just their luck.

 

“So, we’ve come out of the frying pan and into the fire.” Rachel had collected up several blankets and pillows from somewhere and was laying them out in the corner. Thomas knew he would be crammed in with her, Aris and Teresa again but didn’t mind that at all. With his memories back doing so seemed even more natural than it had during the Trials, mostly because they had done it all the time as kids.

 

“As we usually do.” Aris had commandeered someone’s workpad and was playing a game that involved a bouncing lightbulb. “Because our luck was cursed in an arcane ritual before any of us were even born.”

 

“Sounds about right.” Rachel snorted, pulling the sheets tight. “That should do.”

 

Thomas wondered how strange it must be for Teresa, having now come almost full circle in her life. In a way it made her incredibly lucky, and he could tell he wasn’t the only one to envy her. 

 

Thomas’s parents had both come down with the Flare, and would be long dead. Newt had seen his mum and dad killed by WICKED for attempting to protect their children, and had recently lost his little sister, who meant the world to him. Both him and Minho were struggling, and Thomas had left it to Harriet, their close childhood friendships were gone, but she could handle them. Thomas would run from anything Harriet couldn’t handle. Very fast.

 

He had read the files on Aris and Rachel, the memories they had suppressed. Rachel had lived with a grandmother whose dementia meant she had been almost ignored, and the woman’s infection with the Flare had gone unnoticed for months until a neighbour had called police out of concern for the girl. They had taken her away, discovered she was Immune and handed her over to WICKED in less than 24 hours. She’d only been four.

 

Aris had been cared for by his older sister, who had only been twelve when the Flares hit and died before she turned sixteen. The file had noted that she had also been Immune, as siblings had a 1 in 4 chance of being. Thomas would never understand why someone had felt the need to include a picture of the pair, but he would never forget it: a young girl with only one eye, half of her face melted like candle wax, her brother clinging to her.

She had given him away willingly, then been killed by a rogue Crank less than a year later.

 

Thomas had shown those files to Teresa, and they had both agreed to never let their friends know what they contained, some things were better forgotten.

 

None of the rest of them could ever find their families again. But Teresa had, Thomas could tell that made her self-conscious, at least no one was giving her a hard time.

 

Likely because they were all benefitting.

 

Her people were surprisingly nice, in such a way that you knew you didn’t owe anything back. Even though physical threats were passed around like candy.

Despite this most of the Gladers were apprehensive, the Trials had made them immediately distrustful of any stranger, but not enough to refuse a free and safe place to stay.

 

“Why have none of you actually gone to work today?” Thomas asked Trina, if they hadn’t because of him and his friends it would attract attention, and no attention could be good.

 

“We all take one day off a month. You just got lucky.” She looked up from the tablet she was working on.

 

“To do what?” Teresa sat on the counter, she was growing more comfortable here by the second, Thomas was noticing, filling the place she always should have had.

 

“To drink and complain about stupid coworkers.” Trina glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’d best go find out what’s happening for dinner, or we might not get any.”

 

Dinner ended up being pizza, because no one actually wanted to cook. Thomas could agree with that, the only thing he knew how to make was grilled cheese, and he had once set a fire doing that. Rachel had been greatly amused by that.

 

“I want to ask a few questions.” Jorge announced after the meal was over, Thomas had asked several, never able to restrain his curiosity, the answers weren’t withheld but not exactly detailed.

 

“Ask away, but if you want the whole story you’re in for a long night.” Lana replied, brushing her hair back into its bun. It seemed that despite only having one ear she could hear perfectly well from both sides. Thomas had also noticed how her left arm seemed weaker than the right, slightly crooked. She had said it was due to a ‘quite horrible incident with Cranks’ and Thomas hadn’t pushed further.

 

“We can deal with that.” Newt leaned forward on his elbows. “Start talking.”

 

It was the craziest story Thomas had ever heard, but he didn’t doubt its validity. The scar Darnell had on his shoulder from the virus dart, Lana’s injuries, the way Trina flinched recounting her captivity by a cult of long Gone Cranks. It also matched perfectly to everything Teresa had ever told him, Aris and Rachel.

 

The Flare had been a man-made, biological weapon, released to thin a population too big to feed. But it had gone wrong, mutated, became the plague WICKED was desperately trying, and failing to Cure.

Thomas knew how the virus worked, knew that one percent of the population was Immune, and that there were only two billion people left on the planet.

 

“Why do I actually believe all of that?” Brenda asked when the group finally finished talking, the role of speaker had passed around everyone, with no disagreements in events.

 

“Because who’d make it up.” Alejandra answered her. Thomas didn’t know her or Mary at all, but thought he might be able to like them, if there was time.

Most of the Gladers were silent, labouring under the dawning revelation that WICKED had lied to them, that the original heads of the organisation had created the problem they were trying to solve.

 

Had destroyed humanity by trying to save it.

 

“Now it’s your turn. You’ve heard our secrets.” Mark prompted. It was a fair enough trade.

Thomas turned to Harriet, who he knew could tell the story of the Trials concisely but perfectly, although he knew he would have to relate what he had done as an Elite Subject.

 

In the end it felt good to get his secrets off his chest, to tell everything he had done until he entered this room.

 

By the time all the telling was done it was past one in the morning. Further actions still needed to be discussed but everyone was too tired.

 

Thomas threw himself down between Teresa and the wall, instantly falling into a dreamless sleep.

**A/N: Rereading my writing is painful, I keep repeating lines and making strange mistakes. I have got to stop doing this at 10PM or later. Feel free to come talk to me on tumblr, my username is still msnoname24 there.**


	18. Chapter 18

Rachel woke Thomas at precisely 6:03AM, according to his watch. In doing so she also woke Teresa, but that was likely her intention.

 

Thomas detested her more than Rat Man when she did, but understood it was payback for what he had done on the Berg. Besides, she could be far more cruel than 6:03AM.

 

“Morning.” How she could always be so cheerful so early was a deeper mystery than curing the Flare.

 

“This isn’t morning. This is sacrilege to sleep.” Teresa moaned, no one else was awake in the room, but Aris was slowly stirring nearby.

 

Rachel would never have let him escape. Oddly enough the boy never seemed to mind.

 

“We always used to get up at this time. Got to keep in good habits.” She had a point, Thomas didn’t like that point.

 

But in the end he did drag himself up the stairs to follow her to breakfast.

 

In the kitchen Thomas saw Alec, Lana, Mark and Trina all eating various breakfasts whilst listening to a news program on the television. There was something about ‘dangerous escaped fugitives’ and Thomas had to stifle laughter.

 

They were dangerous, not the organisation that routinely killed children with semi-robotic monsters.

 

Mark and Trina were wearing the red shirts Thomas had seen hung up the day before, he assumed it was one of the jobs that was mostly done by Immunes, and therefore paid well. If Immunes were in such low supply as they had heard it was possible Thomas and some of his companions could get work like that. If the world didn’t end.

 

“Good. I needed to tell some of you how things work around here.” Lana said when she noticed them. “Stay inside, there’s a key under the mat for emergencies.” She gestured towards the front door. “Don’t wake those three upstairs before four unless it’s an emergency, and we’re back at five.”

 

“There’s a copy of the sheet the Toad puts on his door. Emergency checklist and reasons you can wake them that won’t lead to revenge.” Mark pushed a slip of paper towards them. No matter where Thomas went in the world people were always the strangest creatures, Crank or Immune.

 

_ Reasons you can wake me up before 4PM/Emergency Checklist: _

 

 

  * __The house is on fire.__


  * _Someone is dying._


  * _The police are here._


  * _Cranks have invaded the city._


  * _Some huge natural disaster._



 

 

_ Thank you for your cooperation. _

 

_ Seriously, Darnell, if you do that again they will not find your body. They might know I did it, but they won’t find your body. Misty says she supports this statement entirely and will help me hide the evidence. _

 

Thomas would have to consider copying that, he was rather interested in what story led to the warning on the last lines but decided not to ask.

 

“If you’re wondering they were both hungover and he woke them by playing ‘Most annoying ringtones’ on full blast and wouldn’t turn it off for half an hour.” Trina explained, smiling at the memory.

 

Thomas really hoped Aris and Rachel wouldn’t take that as inspiration. It was exactly their kind of thing to do.

 

Before long Thomas and his three friends were left alone in the house. Which was rather boring, considering the only passable thing on television was a rerun of an ancient quiz show, the internet was down and none of them could figure out how the game console worked.

 

Brenda, Jorge and the remaining Gladers were all awake by eight. Thomas noticed that Minho was talking again, which prompted Harriet to call yet another Gathering.

 

If Thomas never had to attend another in his life it would be eons too soon.

 

This time they discussed what to do about the friends they had left on the Berg, assuming that they hadn’t already been discovered and taken off to the Crank Palace, which was likely. Newt was already talking about a rescue mission to get Sonya and the others back from WICKED.

 

“We should wait until we hear back from Beth. If the Right Arm are against WICKED they might help us.” Minho’s voice sounded dejected and scratchy from over a day of silence.

 

“She never said she’d get back to us.” Rachel sounded unsure.

 

“She will.” Alejandra spoke up, the girl didn’t say much at meetings, Thomas noticed, but you listened when she did. She was like Mary, silent from a grief she had never recovered from, just not so extreme. Alejandra had quietened since her partner had died, Leo, Thomas thought his name had been, thinking of the Gathering in the Glade where Sonya had told her to shut up because ‘martians would have heard her opinion’.

 

“We can’t stay here forever. The neighbours will suspect before long. They already might.” Brenda interjected, unfortunately she had a point, they had been found very quickly in a motel. WICKED would take longer to find them here, but Thomas didn’t doubt that they could do it.

 

“We’ve got a week at least. Plenty of time to see what’s going on.” Harriet spun her empty cup. “I say we just wait and see what comes.”

 

“Who thinks trouble will find us before Wednesday?” Newt joked, looking around. Thomas raised his hand in solidarity, that sounded very, very likely with their luck.

**A/N: I will not be updating as normal this week because I have mock exams. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I promise this will get more exciting again soon.**


	19. Chapter 19

It turned out that the Toad, Darnell and Misty actually woke up at two, they just didn’t like to be woken before four. Thomas could understand that, being partial to sleep himself, why was he friends with Rachel again? Really she hadn’t given him a choice.

 

The front door slammed open and Thomas turned around embarrassingly fast.

 

“I thought you were supposed to be terrorising innocent citizens.” Darnell said to Mark, who looked as if he had run all the way back from wherever he’d been, still dressed in his uniform and holding a virus testing device

 

“I need to talk to Alec - or Lana, super important.” Mark panted, slamming a note down on the table, it looked similar to the one Thomas had been given telling him to meet Gally. They’d only been in Denver two days and the place had more surprises than the Maze.

 

“Did you lose your phone again? Or forget how time works, it’s three thirty on Tuesday they’re not back for hours.” Misty didn’t bother to turn from the food cupboards she was searching through. “What’s so important that you sprinted back here  _ without _ Trina?”

 

“She’s covering for me, now I gotta go, just read the damned note.” Mark ran back out the door, slamming it shut again behind him.

 

Thomas and all of his companions turned to the three strangers.

 

“What was that about amigos?” Jorge sounded concerned, as if having doubts about being here.

 

“Right Arm meeting, very important, midnight, usual place, we’re all welcome. It says we should bring some of you lot too.” The Toad read. “That can’t be good.”

 

“Nothing’s ever good.” Misty was now scribbling on a piece of paper. “I’m going shopping, no one burn the house down or something else crazy.” With that she left, Thomas could hear the car in the driveway pulling out.

 

“Was it like this when you used to live here?” Rachel asked Teresa. Her stories had always been more about the time spent running from new Cranks than living in safety.

 

“Not usually, are you with the Right Arm?” Teresa replied, that was a very important question.

 

“In a way, Lana says we need to know what’s going on. This place is going to blow up, guaranteed. At the moment we’re safe no matter who wins.” Darnell told them. “What we do is survive, and that’s not stopping now.” This was a world where people did awful things to survive, Thomas had done some himself, everyone had, so no one would judge.

 

“If we’re going to the Right Arm then who?” Mary hadn’t spoken all day, Thomas was learning to pay specific attention when she opened her mouth.

 

“Thomas, Teresa, Me, Harriet, Jorge and Brenda.” Minho still didn’t sound like himself, probably never would. Thomas wondered how he would have reacted if it had been Teresa, Rachel, Aris, bleeding out on that floor, when he had only been metres away.

 

“No. Your turn for a weird meeting.” Newt smiled at Minho to show he was joking. “I’ve had enough strange for a lifetime.”

 

“We all have. But it won’t stop any time soon.” Rachel was flicking through some sort of movies subscription a mile a minute before deciding on something with superheroes.

 

The rest of the day continued as the morning had, despite the sense of trepidation from the strange summons Mark had delivered. The movie Rachel had chosen was old but quite good and killed two hours.

 

“I sense trouble.” Was the first thing Alec said when he returned, “yet no one has disappeared and I don’t smell smoke.”

 

“You set the kitchen on fire one time.” Darnell muttered, before continuing in a normal voice. “Mark came home at half three with a note from the Right Arm, meeting at midnight.” He handed over the missive, which Alec read then passed to Lana.

 

“Sooner than expected, they’ve improved their intelligence network, and they’ve been spying on us.” The woman frowned. “We’ll have to pay more attention.”

 

Thomas had wondered how the Right Arm knew where they were.

 

“Mark and Trina are late, I don’t want to have to yell at them, so they’d better hurry up.” Alec grumbled, checking the clock. Thomas was trying to memorise all these times, they seemed structured, not hard for an outsider to figure out.

 

“You love to yell at people. You always have this almost smile when you do.” Misty had started to make some type of soup with the  _ large _ amount of groceries she had bought, everything from razors to baked beans. There was no shortage or money, but that made sense with seven good full time wages and only one slightly larger than average house.

 

“Maybe I do, they’d still better get a move on.”

 

“Call them if you’re so bothered, but do not put it on speaker because we don’t all need to be traumatised.” Lana shook her head at him.

 

“Perhaps not. They have fifteen minutes if there’s a meeting at midnight.” 

 

Something about this exchange made Thomas smile a little, seeing people live normally, as happily as anyone could.

 

The sort of life he could have had in a better world, that longing hit at the worst times. For his parents, to be a normal child, he usually got rid of it by reminding himself that he never would have known Rachel, Aris, or Teresa, any of his friends. There would have been others of course, but nothing could have been quite the same.

 

Thomas didn’t realise how deep he was in his thoughts until Rachel pinched him.

 

“Oww, Rach!” He exclaimed, rubbing at the spot. Why was this crazy girl one of his best friends?

 

“Stop daydreaming. If you’re tired get some coffee. We’re gonna be up most of the night.” She reminded, Thomas groaned involuntarily.

 

“I second that.” Teresa said, eating a cookie she had found somewhere. They had been told they were welcome to food, as long as they weren’t silly about it.

 

Trina and Mark came back in two minutes before Alec’s arbitrary deadline, making the old man scowl.

 

“Finally. Now tell me about who collared you earlier.” He demanded of the pair.

 

“Some guy in a thick balaclava, most likely died of heatstroke by now.” Trina shrugged. “Probably some weird ‘blow things up’ plan like last time.”

 

“If it is I’m walking straight out.” Misty interjected, placing a vat of soup and pile of bowls on the table, several of which looked as if they had been recently pressed into service as crockery. “No way are we doing that again.”

 

“That’s all good but you’ve met Vince, the guy’s a fanatic and he doesn’t let you say no.” The Toad reached over her to fill a repurposed tupperware container with soup. “This is really good.”

 

“I know why you’re saying that but thanks anyway.” Misty turned away from her friend. “Come on, I didn’t cook for two hours to let this all go cold.”

 

The soup was almost as good as what Frypan and Jane used to serve up in the Glade. Thinking of them made Thomas remember how they had to try to get them all back.

 

Sonya, Emme, Clint, Jane, Frypan, the hundreds of others WICKED must have captured by now. He wouldn’t give up on them.

 

Riding in the back of a van wasn’t pleasant. Mark had called on some guy called Lawrence who was also in the Right Arm to pick them up because only seven people at most could get into Alec’s car. Thomas would have preferred the car but had decided not to complain.

 

Of his group Minho, Harriet, Brenda, Rachel, Aris and Teresa had come along, and were all crammed into the back of a vehicle whose driver did not have any care for his passengers. Originally Rachel and Aris had been going to stay behind but whoever Vince was, apparently the leader of the Right Arm, had been desperate to meet all four of the Elites. Jorge had stayed behind after a short but intense conversation with Brenda. Thomas hadn’t heard much but it had focussed on the fact that she was seventeen and didn’t need a babysitter.

 

Having no sort of guardian at all did have some upsides, Thomas reflected, mostly that no one could stop him from doing things like this.

 

The van entered a large garage after more than twenty minutes of Thomas and the others being tossed around like luggage in a half-empty suitcase. The car Alec had been driving had already arrived.

 

Lawrence got out of the front and had a quick conversation with someone else then opened the doors to the back of the van. The light was blinding.

 

They were lead up several flights of dingy stairs to what looked like it had once been an office boardroom. If these were the headquarters of the Right Arm, the resistance against WICKED, Thomas was certainly discouraged.

 

“If this is it we’ve no chance.” Minho whispered, Harriet jabbed him with her elbow.

 

“You just forfeited your talking privileges.”

 

“Stop it now.” Teresa glared at the pair. “Do you even know what this is?”

 

“None of us do.” Brenda retorted. “That’s the problem.”

 

There were several people sat around the room on dented and cracked plastic chairs. Teresa’s ‘family’, Gally and Beth and a large man entering middle age who Thomas guessed was Vince. It seemed that was all the Right Arm had to offer, or to spare.

 

“This is cosy.” Rachel flopped into a chair, followed by Aris. Thomas and the others stood awkwardly for a few more seconds until probably Vince gestured for them to sit. “Why do you all look so annoyed?” No one answered her for a few moments.

 

“Apparently these lot are kidnapping Immunes just like WICKED. They’re planning to sell them to WICKED to infiltrate the organisation. Worst plan I’ve ever heard and I work with this slinthead.” Beth broke the silence, she was obviously referring to Gally who looked the happiest Thomas had ever seen him. As if having her back solved every problem he had had since leaving the Maze. For all Thomas knew it did.

 

“We have our reasons.” Vince had an almost comically deep voice. “Our city is overrun with Cranks behind the scenes. From what we know they will take over by Friday at the latest. There’s no time to listen to petty arguments.”

 

Since when were mass kidnappings a petty argument, and why did they always get mixed up into crap like this?

 

“Then tell us what they are, then tell us why exactly you’ve been spying on us.” Alec was definitely angry, and from Teresa’s stories and his own experience Thomas knew that was not a good thing.

 

The next few minutes were like an interrogation. Vince was very interested in the particulars of the Trials, and that Thomas’s brain was apparently the last puzzle piece to cure the Flare. The Right Arm had given up on the Cure a long time ago, thought that the genius brains and money sucked up by WICKED should have been used to contain the virus instead.

 

Thomas could agree with a lot of what the man said, but he understood what had been meant about fanaticism. They had been spied on because the Right Arm had considered it a necessity, to understand why WICKED’s remaining Subjects had escaped.

 

“Now, what is your plan.” Thomas demanded, “and don’t skimp on the details.”

 

The plan was to smuggle in a sort of electromagnetic device in with the Immunes, which would deactivate all of WICKED’s weapons and computer systems. In the assault Gally described Thomas knew that his group would be invaluable, most of them having grown up in the complex.

 

They would do it, he knew they all would. Even the ones who weren’t here, who Harriet had mentioned they would have to retrieve if they were actually doing this. Newt would do anything to get Sonya back, Jorge would follow Brenda and  Mary and Alejandra would jump at revenge.

 

“You could use me.” Thomas said suddenly, ending the smaller conversations that had broken out. “They need my brain, I could go ahead, pretend to be going to let them do it, plant the device. You can walk straight in.”

 

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“Now that is a good idea.” Vince nodded approvingly. “We’re ready to do this tomorrow, there’s eighty people ready to go, and the Bergs to take them.”

 

Yes, they would cooperate with the Right Arm for this, but not all the way.

 

“We’re in on this too, if anybody cares.” Mark spoke up for the first time in a while. “We all know how to fight, and plenty of reasons to hate WICKED.”

 

More than almost anyone else alive, if Teresa’s stories were true, and everything Thomas had seen and heard these past few days indicated that they were.

 

It was agreed that the plan go ahead the next day, but Thomas would leave that night. Vince sent Lawrence back out in his van to retrieve Newt and the others.

 

“You should let me go with you.” Teresa protested, the Gladers and Brenda had been taken to a small room where they could sleep or do whatever else they wanted for now. Thomas had spent the last few minutes arguing with her, Aris and Rachel about exactly that. He wished he could take one of them with him, but it would seem suspicious and undermine his chances.

 

“I want to but I can’t.” Thomas sighed. “It’ll only be for a day.” He didn’t know how else to comfort her, but if it did go wrong, if they did take his brain, she wouldn’t be alone.

 

“You’ve said that before. A lot can happen in a day, and it can change everything.” Aris argued. Thomas really wished he hadn’t said that.

 

“You know what.” Rachel got between them. “Let’s see what we think after sleeping on it.”

Thomas loved her, loved all three of them.

**A/N: Mock exams are over!!! Sorry for the late update and I hope this chapter makes up for how slow things have been, I’m returning to the book plot for a while now.**


	20. Chapter 20

Sleep didn’t change anything, not that they got much of it, what with Newt and Alejandra deciding to wake everyone by setting off some sort of alarm. This caused Harriet to immediately start yelling at them.

 

“Five minutes.” Teresa complained as she got up. “Can’t we have calm for five minutes.”

 

“We can, if Harriet isn’t stressed, Rachel isn’t crazy and WICKED isn’t around, or Cranks.” Thomas clarified.

 

“When in our lives have all four of those things coincided?” Aris laughed. Thomas had to agree, in a way absolutely ridiculous insanity was their normal. Rachel gave them a dangerous glare.

 

Thomas would be taken to WICKED in one of the Right Arm Bergs, followed by the others an hour or so later, plenty of time for him to conceal the device and set it to go off. The thing was small enough to conceal in a pocket, as long as no one thought to pat him down.

A good enough plan in theory, but plans never worked out.

 

The Berg would be flown by one of the Right Arm pilots, a man who didn’t even introduce himself and probably couldn’t have through the cloth over his nose and mouth. Thomas was definitely reconsidering not taking a friend, but he knew it was impossible.

 

When it was time to say goodbye Thomas kissed Teresa, promising to see her shortly, and hugged Aris before being intercepted by Rachel.

 

“If you get killed I will write ‘kill Tom in the afterlife’ on my wrist until the day I die, then carry it out.” She threatened, typical. Thomas just laughed and hugged her too, she definitely meant it but somehow he didn’t care. It was doubtful she could murder him in an afterlife none of them believed in anyway.

 

“I’ll miss you too.” He climbed up the Berg ramp after the impatient pilot. After the white room he hadn’t been separated from all three of them for more than a few hours, but destroying WICKED would certainly be worth it.

 

It was crazy really, to voluntarily be going back to WICKED, to destroy them. Thomas doubted the Right Arm would be much better but they would try to be. Besides, few of them were Immune, and the cities were beginning to collapse.

 

Thomas went back to sleep for most of the ride, there was nothing to do and no one to talk to. For the umpteenth time he wished he still had the telepathy, even though it had almost driven him to insanity many times when it was there.

 

He was required to walk the last couple of miles in the snow to the WICKED complex, and was reminded of how many times he had done this with his friends, but Chuck had always been there then so he tried to push the thoughts from his head. Today he needed to be focussed.

 

It was Rat Man who met Thomas at the entrance, and he was briefly surprised that it wasn’t Chancellor Paige. Before she was the Chancellor she had been the supervisor of the ‘A Elites’, Thomas and Teresa, and had never rescinded the role, Rat Man had been supervisor to Aris and Rachel, and they always said he hated them and his job.

 

“Welcome back, Thomas,” he said. “No one believed me, but I’ve been saying all along that you’d return. I’m glad you made the right choice.”   
  
“Let’s just get on with it,” Thomas said. He’d do this—he’d play the part—but he didn’t have to be nice about it.   
  
“Sounds like an excellent idea.” Janson stepped back and bowed slightly. “After you.” With a chill along his spine to match the frosty weather outside, Thomas walked past the Rat Man and entered WICKED’s headquarters.

 

“Please wait here whilst I gather my team.” Janson pointed to the garishly bright seats and left. Thomas remembered that there was no CCTV in this room, so quickly slipped the device behind a chair leg against the wall and activated it. It was done, now to hope the others did their part.

 

Rat Man returned after a few moments and led Thomas to a room where a man and woman were sat waiting, he recognised them as Dr Wright and Dr Christensen.

 

“Now Mr Thomas, you know you are the Final Candidate, and that we require your brain to complete the Cure Blueprint.” Again with the stupid titles.

 

“Yes. I understand.” It took Thomas a lot of willpower to not roll his eyes at them, they’d been going on about this for days before they escaped. He really hoped the Right Arm would be on time.

 

Then he thought of something. “Who are the other Candidates, in order?” Thomas had to know, who would be next if the Right Arm failed, who else would they slice up.

 

“Of your fellow Elites; Miss Teresa, Mr Aristotle, and Miss Rachel. They are of course our best chances after yourself.” Thomas had always hated Dr Christensen, and now he remembered why. “Then Miss Harriet, Mr Newton and Miss Sonya, Miss Elizabeth and Mr Minho. The loss of Mr Galileo was certainly a blow.” The man finished, Thomas nodded, he didn’t have to know after that but he could guess.

 

Part of Thomas’s mind actually wanted to let them do this. If he did and it worked, and WICKED had never seemed surer about anything so he thought it might, his friends would be free. But it was a stupid thought, free in a world where they were hated, and crumbling cities would soon be filled with long Gone Cranks who far outnumbered the healthy. He just had to hold out for an hour or two.

 

Thomas was led to a private room while the team prepped for the surgery, he really wished the Right Arm would hurry up. He was provided a meagre meal and allowed to type messages to his friends, told that they would do their best to deliver them.

 

Thomas wrote to Teresa first, then Rachel, then Aris, thanking them for being his friends through everything. All in case he didn’t survive.

 

He wrote to Harriet, Newt and Minho too, apologised to them that he betrayed them years ago, even if he didn’t mean it. Apologised for not being able to save Alby, Miyoko and Sonya, who could still be alive. It hurt him too but he didn’t say that.

 

After half an hour there was still no sign of the Right Arm, Thomas tried to stall for more time but Rat Man told him there was none. Thomas didn’t doubt that they were prepared to tranquilise him if necessary.

 

Janson led Thomas to a prep room with a wheeled bed surrounded by all kinds of monitors and several nurses. Dr. Christensen was there, dressed from head to toe in scrubs, a surgical mask already in place on his face. Thomas could only see his eyes, but he looked eager to get started.   
  
“So that’s it?” Thomas asked. A surge of panic raced through his gut, and it felt as if something were trying to chew through his chest. “Time to cut me open?”   
“I’m sorry,” the doctor answered. “But we need to begin.”   
The Rat Man was just about to speak again when a blaring alarm erupted throughout the building.   
  
Thomas’s heart lurched and relief flooded his system. It had to be the Right Arm.   
The door swung open and Thomas turned just in time to see a frantic-looking woman announce, “A Berg arrived with a delivery, but it was a trick to get people inside—they’re trying to take over the main building this very second.”   
  
Janson’s response almost stopped Thomas’s heart.   
“Looks like we need to hurry and get this procedure started. Christensen, put him under.”

 

Thomas wanted to fight, but that would mean they knocked him out quicker, so he pretended to be complacent when a doctor and nurse pushed him onto the gurney. He hoped, prayed even, that Teresa and everyone else would hurry. The medical team were all panicking.

 

Suddenly an IV was in his arm, and everything fell away.

**A/N: Sorry for another late update and short chapter, I have to spend next week on my EPQ so I don’t know how much time I’ll have for this. If I disappear on the fourth it’s because the European Parliament passed Article 13. I will try to get another chapter up tonight.**


	21. Chapter 21

For a long time, Thomas knew only darkness. The break in the void of his thoughts was just a hairline crack—only wide enough to let him know about the void itself. Somewhere on the edge of it all, he knew that he was supposed to be asleep, kept alive only so they could inspect his brain. Take it apart, probably slice by slice.  
  
So he wasn’t dead yet.   
  
At some point as he floated in this confusing mass of blackness, he heard a voice. Calling his name.   
                                                                                                       
After hearing Thomas several times, he finally decided to go after it, find it. He made himself move toward the voice.   
  
Toward his name.

 

“Thomas, I have faith in you.” Chancellor Paige said somewhere as Thomas struggled to regain consciousness, he almost wished one of his friends was there to slap him awake.

 

When he finally got his eyes open the room was empty, but there was a manila folder on the table beside his bed with _Thomas_ printed on it in large red letters. What was Paige’s game now? Thomas wondered as he opened it.

 

There were two pieces of paper inside. The first was a map of the WICKED complex, with black marker tracing several routes through the building. He quickly scanned the second: it was a letter, addressed to him and signed by Chancellor Paige. He put the map down and started to read the letter from the beginning.  
  
Dear Thomas,   
  
It’s my belief that the Trials are over. We have more than enough data to create a blueprint. My associates disagree with me on this matter, but I was able to stop this procedure and save your life. It’s now our task to work with the data we already have and build a cure for the Flare. Your participation, and that of the other subjects, is no longer necessary.   
  
You now have a great task ahead of you. When I became Chancellor I realized the importance of creating a back door of sorts to this building. I placed this back door in an unused maintenance room. I’m asking you to remove yourself, your friends, and the considerable number of Immunes we’ve gathered. Time is of the essence, as I’m sure you’re aware.

  
There are three paths marked on the map I’ve enclosed. The first shows you how to leave this building through a tunnel—once outside, you’ll be able to find where the Right Arm has made their own entrance to another building. There, you can join them. The second route will show you how to get to the Immunes. The third shows you how to find the back door. It’s a Flat Trans that will transport you to what I hope will be a new life.   
  
Take them all and leave.   
  
Ava Paige, Chancellor

 

After everything he was really expected to trust her? Thomas sighed and looked at the first path, memorising it, he had to find his friends first anyway, then figure out what they were going to do.

 

No one even glanced at Thomas as he ran through the corridors, the Right Arm had created utter chaos.

 

He found Beth and Gally first, sat at a table with Vince who was considering a map that Thomas didn’t have time to decipher. Gally looked uncertain, Beth looked truly pissed.

 

“Where’s everyone else?” Thomas tried not to sound as frantic as he was.

 

Gally nodded toward a side room. “Those guys are all in there, said they wouldn’t do anything until you came back.”  
  
Thomas suddenly felt sorry for the scarred boy beside him. “Come with me, Gally. Let these guys do whatever they want, but come help us.”   
  
Vince spun on them. “Don’t even think about it,” he barked. “Thomas, you knew coming in here what our goals were. If you abandon us now I’ll consider you a turncoat. You’ll be a target.” Thomas kept his focus on Gally. He saw a sadness in the boy’s eyes that made his heart break. And he also saw something he’d never seen there before: trust. Genuine trust.   
  
“Come with us,” Thomas said.   
  
A smile formed on his old enemy’s face and he responded in a way Thomas never would have expected.   
  
“Okay.”   
  
Thomas didn’t wait for Vince to react. He grabbed Gally’s arm and they scooted away from the table together, then ran to the office and slipped inside. Beth had followed, but Thomas hadn’t expected anything else of her.

  
“Do you have answers? Because someone better.” Harriet demanded before anyone else could do anything. Typical.

 

Thomas pulled the pieces of paper out of his pocket. “WICKED are keeping the Immunes in the Maze,” he read off the map, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. “The Chancellor says we should take them out a ‘back door’ through a Flat Trans. She’s put it in the room where we always used to meet up.”

 

“If we’re doing anything like that we’d better do it quick. The Right Arm’s been planting explosives for hours and they’re gonna bring this place down. Vince just said they’ll be targeting us.” Beth added. Well, that didn’t complicate things.

 

“We can’t trust her.” Teresa shook her head. “But we can’t leave all those people to die.”

 

Thomas could agree with that. They had to get the Immunes out of the Maze, and then they could investigate this back door.

 

“What are we doing wasting time. Let’s go.” Brenda looked around, grinning mischievously.

 

Thomas showed the letter around and it took only a couple of minutes for everyone to agree to the plan.

 

Vince and others shouted at them as they left, but they paid no attention.

 

“Let’s just hope they don’t get the word around fast enough for them all to aim for us.” Rachel said as they rounded a corner, yet to run into any WICKED guards but they would. Teresa reached out and pressed a knife into Thomas’s hand, he clutched it tight.

 

Going around a corner Thomas almost ran straight into Alec, who was in the middle of a rapid fire conversation with the rest of Teresa’s strange, well he still wasn’t sure what to call them.

 

“Do I dare ask?” The old man surveyed Thomas’s group.

 

“I do.” Mark’s statement earned a glare from his friend but he sent it straight back. “What are you doing running around in a building that’s about to explode following a map?”

 

Thomas still doesn’t know if he can trust these people yet, but he hasn’t seen any evidence to the contrary, and they need as many allies as they can get to get past WICKED’s guards.

 

He explained it all as quickly as he could, which was approximately ninety seconds.

 

“Hmmm, suicide mission, aimed at by both sides, eighty percent chance of horribly painful death. Why not.” Darnell joked, Thomas really did agree with the man.

 

WICKED guards were like cockroaches, hiding everywhere and refusing to give up until they had absolutely no fight left in them, then there were more.

 

“How much longer?” Rachel demanded after they had taken down a second ambush. They hadn’t lost anyone in their group, but some had minor injuries.

 

Thomas glanced at the now crumpled and slightly torn map. “Not far.”

 

They ran down another long flight of stairs and stumbled one by one into the room at the bottom. Thomas froze in shock when he realized where he was. It was the chamber that housed the Griever pods, the room they’d found themselves in after they escaped from the Maze. The observation room windows were still shattered—the glass lay in shards all over the floor. The forty or so oblong pods where the Grievers rested and charged looked like they’d been sealed closed since the Gladers had come through weeks earlier. A layer of dust dulled what had been a shiny white surface the last time Thomas had seen them.  
  
He knew that as a member of WICKED he’d spent countless hours and days in this place as they’d worked on creating the Maze, and he felt the shame of it all over again.   
  
Brenda pointed out the ladder that led up to where they needed to go. Thomas shuddered at the memory of going down the slimy Griever chute during their escape—they could’ve just climbed down a ladder.   
  
“Why isn’t anybody here?” Minho asked. He turned in a circle, searching the place. “If they’re holding people in there, why no guards?”   
  
Thomas thought about it. “Who needs soldiers to keep them in when you have the Maze doing the job for you? It took us long enough to figure a way out.”   
  
“I don’t know,” Minho said. “Something’s fishy about it.”   
  
Thomas shrugged. “Well, sitting here isn’t gonna help. Unless you’ve got something useful, let’s get up there and start bringing them out.”   
  
“Useful?” Minho repeated. “I got nothin’.”   
  
“Then up we go.”   
  
Thomas climbed the ladder and pulled himself out into another familiar room—the one with the input stations where he had typed the code words to shut down the Grievers. Chuck had been there, and he’d been terrified but brave. And not even an hour after that he was dead. The pain of losing his friend filled Thomas’s chest once again. He pushed it down and turned to help the others up.   
  
“Home, sweet home,” Minho muttered. He was pointing at a round hole above them. It was the hole that exited to the Cliff. Back when the Maze was fully operational, holotech had been used to conceal it, to make it look like part of the fake, endless sky beyond the stone edge of the drop-off. It was all turned off now, of course, and Thomas could see the walls of the Maze through the opening. A stepladder had been placed directly under it.

 

“Great, more climbing. I preferred the falling.” Aris grumbled but started up the next ladder, Rachel following.

  
Two boards had been placed across the gap to the Maze’s stone floor at the Cliff edge. Below Thomas was just a black-walled work area that had always looked like an endless drop before. He looked back up at the Maze and had to pause to take it all in.   
  
Where the sky had once shone blue and bright, there was now only the dull gray ceiling. The holotech off the side of the Cliff had been completely shut down, and the once-vertigo-inducing view had been transformed into simple black stucco. Just as Thomas remembered from building it, but the part of him that had been an amnesiac Glader was reeling.   
  
He was back.


	22. Chapter 22

It would have been a profound moment, but it wasn’t. Harriet and Minho had started some stupid argument and Brenda was reminding them that ‘this is really, really not the time’. Beth was telling Gally to get his act together or she’d slap it together and Trina was saying something to her friends about ‘this being what they spent half the world’s money on, seriously?’ 

Then again, what was he supposed to expect?

 

Thomas agreed with all of them, but he was elated when Teresa shouted that they had to move.

 

“Never thought we’d be here again. Huh?” Teresa said as she kept pace beside Thomas, the map he had once memorised was as good as it had ever been. The fact that the Maze had been set to neutral configuration certainly helped.

 

Minho led the way, and the absence of Miyoko was jarring. Thomas remembered how they had run as if they shared a body, never colliding, always in step, turning together.

 

No one said anything as they ran, but Thomas had to wonder how the Maze looked to those who had never been there before. It was an incredible, terrible place.

 

They reached the huge gap in the walls that made up the East Door, and Thomas caught his breath and slowed. There were hundreds of people milling about the Glade. He was horrified that there were even a few babies and small children scattered among the crowd. It took a moment for the murmurs to spread across the sea of Immunes, but within seconds every eye was trained on the new arrivals and utter silence fell upon the Glade.   
  
“Did you know there were this many?” Minho asked Thomas.   
  
There were people everywhere—certainly more than the Gladers had ever numbered. But what stole Thomas’s words was seeing the Glade itself again. The crooked building they called the Homestead; the pathetic copse of trees; the Bloodhouse barn; the fields, now only hardened weeds. The charred Map Room, its metal door blackened and still hanging ajar. He could even see the Slammer from where he stood. A bubble of emotion threatened to burst inside him.   
  
“Don’t you start daydreaming Tom.” Rachel said as she pinched Thomas  _ very hard _ .   
  
“Huh? Oh … There’s so many—they make the place look smaller than it ever did when we were here.” It didn’t take long before their friends spotted them. Frypan. Clint, Sonya and the rest of them. They all came running, and there was a short burst of reunions and hugs. Newt grabbed hold of his sister and swung her around before simply holding her tight to him until she pulled away, most likely to breathe.   
  
Frypan swatted Thomas on the arm. “Can you believe they put me back in this place? They wouldn’t even let me cook, just sent us a bunch of packaged food in the Box three times a day. Kitchen doesn’t even work—no electricity, nothing.”

 

"We have bigger problems and you know it.” Jane sighed at her partner then turned her attention to Thomas. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

 

Thomas wasn’t sure how to explain, the plan seemed impossible with so many people, and there were children who’d have to be carried, and some rather frail looking old people. Not to mention that the building was about to collapse and anyone else who found them would open fire.

 

Overall they were utterly shucked.

 

“How are we going to do this?” Teresa mused, coming up beside Thomas to stare at the crowd, Jane seemed to have deduced that they wouldn’t answer her so she and Frypan had wandered off to the rest of the Gladers.

 

“There’s four or five hundred people.” Thomas looked around and estimated. “We need to get them into groups, and we’ll each take a group. Make sure anyone slow or old is near the front so they don’t get left behind. Make the groups about twenty five.” He thought for another moment, wondering if all these people would listen to a group of teenagers when the explosives started to go off and panic erupted.

 

Teresa obviously understood, and turned to the rest of their group, there were many small conversations going on. She called for quiet and to Thomas’s surprise it actually happened.

 

“Okay, let’s split them into groups,” he said to everyone. “There’s gotta be four or five hundred people, so … groups of twenty five. Then have one of us be in charge of them. Me, Teresa, Rachel, Aris, Brenda, Harriet, Minho, Sonya and Newt know where we’re going. Rachel and Aris go in front and lead. Gally, Beth and Mary cover the rear. Everyone else lead a group.”   
  
“Sounds good to me,” Minho said, shrugging. Impossibly, he looked bored.   
  


“When did we stop questioning all the crazy?” Mark asked one of his companions, Thomas couldn’t tell which.

 

“About a week in, and that was fourteen years ago.” Trina shook her head at him. Thomas had so many questions for Teresa and her strange ‘allies’, that would do.   
  
They spent the next twenty minutes dividing everyone into groups and getting them into long lines. They paid special attention to keeping the groups even in terms of age and strength. The Immunes had no problem following orders once they realized the new arrivals had come to help rescue them.   
  
Once they were organized into groups, Thomas and his friends lined up in front of the East Door. Thomas waved his hands to get everyone’s attention.   
  
“Listen up!” Thomas began. “WICKED is planning to use you for science. Your bodies—your brains.   
  
They’ve been studying people for years, collecting data to develop a cure for the Flare. Now they want to use you as well, but you deserve more than a life as lab rats. You are—we all are—the future, and the future isn’t going to happen the way WICKED wants it to. That’s why we’re here. To get you out of this place. We’ll be going through a bunch of buildings to find a Flat Trans that’ll take us somewhere safe. If we’re attacked, we’re going to have to fight. Stick with your groups, and the strongest need to do whatever it takes to protect the—”   
  
Thomas’s last words were cut off by a violent crack—like the sound of stone splintering. And then, nothing. Only an echo bouncing off the enormous walls.   
  
“What was that?” Harriet yelled, searching the sky for the source.   
  
Thomas inspected the Glade, the walls of the Maze rising up behind him, but nothing was out of place. He was just about to speak when another crack sounded, then another. A thunderous din of rumbling crossed the Glade, beginning low and increasing in depth and volume. The ground started to tremble, and it seemed as if the world was going to fall apart.   
  
People turned in circles, looking for the source of the noise, and Thomas could tell panic was spreading.   
  
He’d lose control soon. The ground shook more violently; the sounds amplified—thunder and grinding rock—and now screams erupted from the mass of people standing in front of him.   
  
Suddenly it dawned on Thomas. “The explosives.”   
  
“What?” Newt shouted at him.   
  
Thomas looked at his friend. “The Right Arm!”   
  
A deafening roar shook the Glade, and Thomas spun around to look up. A large portion of the wall to the left of the East Door had broken loose, great chunks of stone flying everywhere. A huge section seemed to hover at an impossible angle, and then it fell, toppling toward the ground.   
  
Thomas didn’t have time to shout a warning before the massive piece of rock landed on a group of people, crushing them as it broke in half. He stood for a moment, speechless as blood oozed out from the edges and pooled on the stone floor.

 

The wounded screamed. Rumbles of thunder and the sound of rock fracturing combined to make a horrible chorus as the ground beneath Thomas continued to shake. The Maze was falling apart around them—they had to get out.

 

“Run!” Thomas yelled, seeing Sonya dart into the Maze before the crowd erupted into chaos, hundreds of people trying to rush through the corridors. He really hoped someone who knew where the Cliff was was near the front.

 

There was no time to spare. Thomas searched the chaos until he found Teresa. He grabbed his old friend and she followed him to the gap into the Maze. Any attempts to prevent a stampede had been abandoned.   
  
Another splintering crack sounded from above; Thomas looked up to see a section of wall falling toward the ground by the fields. It exploded when it hit, luckily with no one underneath. With a sudden jerk of horror he realized that the roof itself would eventually collapse.

 

It was Sonya leading the front of the pack, Thomas eventually realised, and the pandemonium had somewhat lessened.

The Maze was shaking and collapsing around them, people being crushed under slabs of rock. Thomas just tried to think about survival, not the images of his friends crushed under chunks of ceiling.

 

Finally reaching the Cliff he could see that Aris and Rachel had taken charge, forcing people down the Griever Hole.

“Go on, show them where to go!” Rachel yelled at Thomas, he didn’t think, just jumped down.

 

He squeezed into the flow of people and crossed the boards to the hole, then swerved away from the crowd at the chute and ran to the ladder. He picked his way down the rungs as quickly as he could and was relieved to see at the bottom that the damage hadn’t reached that section yet. Teresa was there, helping people get up after they landed and telling them which direction to head.   
  
“I’ll do this!” he yelled to her. “Get to the front of the pack!” He pointed through the double doors.   
  
She was about to answer when she caught sight of something behind him. Her eyes widened in fear, and Thomas spun around.   
  
Several of the dusty Griever pods were opening, their top halves lifting upward on hinges like the lids of coffins.

 

“Oh. Of all the klunk that could happen.” Newt’s statement encapsulated Thomas’s thoughts perfectly.

 

“You remember how to shut those off?” Teresa shouted. Thomas did, but it wasn’t pleasant.

 

“Yes. Get Rach and Ari down here.” He told her, the four of them were most likely the only ones that knew. Teresa called upwards and in a moment both of their friends had jumped down the Hole.

 

The tops of the pods continued to open as Thomas sprinted to the closest one. The lid was halfway up when he reached it, and he strained to look inside. The Griever’s huge, sluglike body was trembling and twisting, sucking up moisture and fuel from tubes connected to its sides.   
  
Thomas ran to its far end and pulled himself up on the lip of the container, then stretched over and leaned down to the Griever inside. He slammed his hand through the moist skin to find the handle. It was truly disgusting but when he reached it and pulled the whole thing tore loose and the Griever fell into a limp mass of jelly at the bottom of the pod.

 

Aris and Rachel were doing the same, trying desperately to stop any of the creatures waking fully. Damn Janson, who else would have done this?   
  


It took what could only have been two minutes before all the creatures were deactivated. The flow of people coming down the ladder had slowed, meaning that everyone was safe or dead. Thomas saw Gally, Minho, Sonya, but any other faces he would know were obscured by the crowd.

 

A deep rumble came from somewhere, from everywhere. The room shook for a few seconds then stilled.   
  
“We better hurry,” Aris said, staring at the walls expecting cracks. Thomas wasn’t going to disagree. 

 

They found Teresa at the front of the group after several agonising minutes navigating the crowd that had stopped moving almost entirely. At least three hundred people had made it out of the Maze, not bad but still far too many dead.

 

It didn’t take long to find the maintenance room, after so many evenings spent there Thomas’s feet knew exactly where to take him. He just did his best to ignore the explosions coming incrementally closer.

 

The small room was exactly how they had left it, down to the abandoned bottle of liquor they had shared on a shelf out of Minho’s reach.

 

On the far side, a large piece of canvas had been hung against the wall. Thomas ran to it and ripped it down. Behind it he found a dully shimmering wall of gray framed by a rectangle of shiny silver, and next to it, a control box.   
  
It was the Flat Trans.   
  
The Chancellor had told the truth.   
  
Thomas let out a laugh at the thought. WICKED—the leader of WICKED—had helped him.   
  
Unless … He realized he needed to know one last thing. He had to test it to see where it led before he sent everyone through. Thomas sucked in a deep breath. This was it.   
  
He forced himself to step through the icy Flat Trans surface. And he came out into a simple wooden shed, its door wide open in front of him. Beyond that he saw … green. Lots and lots of green. Grass, trees, flowers, bushes. It was good enough for him.   
  
He stepped back through to the maintenance room, exhilarated. They’d done it—they were almost safe.   
  
He ran out to the storage area.   
  
“Come on!” he yelled. “Get everyone in here—it works! Hurry!” An explosion rattled the walls and the metal racks. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.   
  
“Hurry!” he repeated.   
  
Teresa already had people running, shepherding them Thomas’s way. He waited to see the first person he knew from his group and ended up with Alejandra.   
  
“You know what this is, right?” he asked her.

 

“We all went to the Scorch you shuckface.” The girl rolled her eyes. “I’ll get them through.”

She had initiative at least.

 

Thomas wove his way towards his friends at the back of the crowd that was moving far too slowly.

  
“They better be quick about it up there,” Minho said. “The explosions are getting closer and closer.”   
  
“The whole place is gonna fall down,” Gally added.   
  
Thomas scanned the ceiling as if he expected it to happen right that second. “I know. I told them to hurry. We’ll all be out of here in a—”   
  
“Well, what do we have here?” a voice shouted from the back of the room.


	23. Chapter 23

A few gasps sounded around Thomas as he turned to see who’d spoken. The Rat Man had just come through the door from the outside hallway, and he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by WICKED security guards. Thomas counted seven total, which meant that he and his friends still had the advantage.

 

“Oh great.” Teresa turned to the line of people that was not depleting nearly fast enough.   
  
Janson stopped and cupped his hands to shout over the rumble of another explosion. “Strange place to hide out when everything’s about to come down!” Pieces of metal fell from the ceiling, clattering to the ground.   
  
“You know what’s here!” Thomas shouted back. “It’s too late—we’re already going!” Janson pulled out a long knife and so did his companions.   
  
“But we can salvage a few,” Janson said. “And it looks like we have the strongest and brightest right here in front of us. Even our Final Candidate, no less! The one we need most, yet who refuses to cooperate.” Thomas and his friends had spread out in a line between the dwindling crowd of prisoners and the guards, searching for weapons. Thomas had the knife Teresa had given him and she had one too.   
  
“I’ve never seen such a menacing bunch of thugs!” the Rat Man yelled, but his face was crazed, his mouth contorted into a wild sneer. “I have to admit I’m terrified!”   
  
“You should be, you’re outnumbered two to one.” Sonya glared, holding a long piece of wire.   
  
Janson focused his cold, mad gaze on the teenagers facing him.   
  
“Gladly,” he said.   
  
Thomas ached to lash out for all the fear and pain and suffering that had defined his life for so long. “Go!” he shouted.   
  
The two groups charged each other, their yells of battle drowned out by the sudden concussion of detonating explosives that shook the building around them.

 

Thomas collided with Rat Man in the chaos, Janson cried out and dropped his weapon when Thomas drove his knife into the man’s armpit.

 

“I don’t care if I bleed to death,” Janson said with a grimace. “As long as I die after I get you back up there.”   
  
They fought, explosions shaking the room. Eventually Thomas got his hands around Janson’s neck and squeezed. He put all his hatred of Paige, WICKED and Rat Man himself into the action. Squeezing and squeezing until the man fell limp. Dead.

  
“We’d better go now!” Harriet was shouting as she pulled people to their feet, shoving them in the direction of the Flat Trans. The explosions were coming more and more frequently and everyone else had disappeared. The building was collapsing around them.

 

They struggled to keep their balance, moving forward as the room rocked, debris raining down. Thomas saw Brenda and Minho ahead, Teresa nearby, but no one else.

 

The door to the maintenance room had fallen off and lay on the ground. Thomas saw Gally step through the Flat Trans as they entered. He hadn’t seen bodies but didn’t know who was still alive.

 

Brenda stepped through, then Minho, Thomas shoved Teresa forward. Around him the sounds of destruction were deafening, debris raining down.

 

He took one last look at the place where he had spent so many happy hours with all his friends, before it was ruined. Before Alby, Flo, Chuck and Miyoko were all dead. Then Thomas closed his eyes and jumped into the icy gray wall.

 

He landed on the floor of the shed in a very undignified manner, out of the corner of his eye he saw Brenda shut off the Flat Trans. Probably for the best, but they would need to use it later.

 

And not only because they had no idea where they were. It could well be another trick.

 

“C’mon, outside.” Rachel grabbed Thomas’s arm and pulled him to stand. There were people everywhere, staring at the impossibility of the place where they were. Blue sky, trees, flowers, the sort of paradise that wasn’t supposed to exist anywhere in the world after the Sun Flares and the Flare virus.

 

He saw Teresa and hugged her tight. Of the Gladers that were left most had survived. Mary and Alejandra, who were always on the edge of the group but seemed able to endure without incident. Frypan, Jane and Clint too, Thomas supposed, he couldn’t see Emme anywhere and the med-jack was crying.

 

Teresa and Aris, Thomas and Rachel, Harriet, Newt and Sonya, Gally and Beth, Minho, Mary, Frypan and Jane, Clint, Alejandra. They were all that was left of the Gladers, all of WICKED’s Subjects.

 

Fifteen out of a hundred and twenty, and it had achieved nothing in the end. That sense of futility would probably never truly leave.

 

The place where they had been sent wasn’t empty, there were cabins of various sizes, what looked like a generator building. Whatever this was it had been planned for a long time.

 

But Thomas wouldn’t question any of it, he needed time to mentally recover from the last days, then he would worry about logistics and possibilities. He was tired, body and soul.

 

Of his three best friends Rachel was the best functioning, surprising no one. She found water and some food and commandeered a room with several bunks in the space of half an hour.

 

“I want to sleep forever.” Aris threw himself down on a mattress. Nothing outside was even vaguely organised so it was unlikely anyone would notice their absences.

 

“Then take a nap.” Teresa had already burrowed under a blanket. “And be quiet.”

 

Thomas agreed, he was done thinking and doing for the moment. He was asleep before he could even take his shoes off. For now they were safe so that was enough.

Final WICKED Memorandum, Date 232.4.10, Time 12:45

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: A New Beginning

 

And so, we have failed.

 

But we have also succeeded.

 

Our original vision didn’t come to fruition; the blueprint never came together. We were unable to discover either a vaccine or a treatment for the Flare. But I anticipated this outcome and put into place an alternate solution, to save at least a portion of our race. The remaining Subjects, and I am deeply saddened that so many young lives were sacrificed by our efforts, and the other Immunes we have gathered have been sent to an undisclosed location on the edge of Antarctica. I truly believe this is the best outcome we could have hoped for.

 

I know the majority of WICKED thought that we needed to get tougher, dig deeper, be more ruthless with our Subjects, keep searching for an answer. Begin new rounds of Trials. But what we neglected to see was right before our eyes. The Immune are the only resource left to this world.

 

And if all has gone according to plan, we have sent enough strong Immunes to begin civilisation anew, and will send more as long as we are able.

 

It is my hope that over the years our organisation has in some part paid the price for the unspeakable act committed by our predecessors in government. Though I am fully aware that it was an act of desperation following the Sun Flares, releasing the Flare virus as a means of population control was an abhorrent and irreversible crime. And the disastrous results could never have been predicted. WICKED has worked ever since that act was committed to right that wrong, to find a Cure. And though we have failed in that effort, we can at least say we’ve planted the seed for mankind’s future.

 

I don’t know how history will judge the actions of WICKED, but I state here for the record that the organisation only ever had one goal, and that was to preserve the human race. And in this last act, we have done just that.

 

As we tried to instil in each of our Subjects over and over, WICKED is good.

**A/N: I have now actually finished all three parts of this. Would anyone be interested if I wrote a fourth part which is after the Death Cure?**


End file.
